


Across Hearts

by Wordpainter15



Series: Across Hearts [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Adoption, Child OCs, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Episodic in nature, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Orphans, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-08-21 09:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordpainter15/pseuds/Wordpainter15
Summary: Even in peace, some still look for happiness. A young Hylian found drifting in the river searches aimlessly. A flightless Rito tries to find her way home. A series of connected pieces involving the intwining of lives of those of different blood. (T rating for later reference of child abuse)





	1. Coniunctione Cordis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross-posted from my fanfiction account under the same name. These chapters are episodic and change characters in each chapter. Enjoy. Also, I am juggling school and writer's block and update randomly... sorry.

**Coniunctione Cordis (Joining of Hearts)**

  
_“Little souls find their way to you, whether they’re from your womb or someone else's.” -Sheryl Crow_

The creature’s head bobs as it rhythmically trots across the plains of Central Hyrule. The warmth of the sun makes Zelda sigh happily, her hand weaving through the mane of the white stallion that Link presented to her quite enthusiastically the moment that they stepped into the vicinity of a stable. Being mobile again still required adjusting after a century and then some of being trapped. A Hyrule free of Ganon’s blight eased the pain throbbing through her back from the hours of horseback riding.

Link casts a mixture of concerned amusement when the princess halts her horse and slides off. The blond rubs at her sore back and glances ruefully at the hero turning his horse around to check up on her. Epona knickers at the white stallion with a swing of her head and Regalia snorts in response.

“At least they’re getting along,” The princess breathes out and kneels into the grass. “We can take a break?”

The hero nods and unmounts his own steed. He gives the mare a hearty pat on the neck before dropping his pack of supplies onto the ground. With only his Master Sword strapped across his back and a quiver of arrows, Link grabs his Knights bow (no use wasting a higher quality bow) to go terrorize the woodland critters and possibly find a korok.

Zelda grabs the reins of the two horses and brings the duo to the river. She breathes the fresh air in as the horses dip their heads to drink and looks out to the Dueling Peaks. They were to rest at the stables before heading to Kakariko Village bearing the good news of the Calamity’s fall, although both travelers believed the news to already be known if the drunken stupor of the previous stable meant anything. Her eyes start to rotate back to Regalia as the horse snorts beside her, but a patch of black draws her attention. She takes the Shekia plate off her hip and uses the camera feature to zoom in, the device clatters to the ground as the princess starts running.  
“Epona, get Link!” Zelda calls out as she splashes into the river. Water weighs down the riding pants she’s wearing and slows her advance towards the figure.  
One arm wraps around the girl’s waist and Zelda hefts the child out of the river. The bearer of wisdom startles at the weight as she shuffles the way up the bank. Her brows furrow at the red marks surrounding one wrist and her blue eyes widen in horror when a glance at her other wrist and ankles show rocks strapped to the child as drowning weights. The sound of hoofbeats forces her attention on a panicked Link galloping through the water.  
“Link, I need a fairy potion, any health potion,” Zelda rushes out. “What happened to you, you poor child?”  
…

  
Mist had never been to Rito Village despite the plumage that sprouted throughout her body. Her black feathers, speckled in white like a snowy mountain, ruffle as she pads her way up the pathway. Her travel pack weighs down her body and the guard at the entrance casts her a wayward look at the carry on that would hinder the young Rito from flying. The Rito’s gold eyes drop to the ground as she passes the guard and a slight shiver crawls up her back as a cold wind flows through her preliminary outer feathers and penetrates the down that she carelessly groomed.

Music could already be heard from where the young fledgling made her way up the pillar. Her beak drops slightly at the sparkle of torches that lit the village aglow with dancing red light. The steady beat of the music causes Mist’s talons to tap against the ground and her tail feathers to sway in time as she encounters the main square of the village.

“Where are your parents little one?”

Mist’s feathers burst outward at the noise and she pivots with a heaving chest. Her breathing slows at the black and turquoise blue Rito looking at her. The Rito’s light blue beak twitches in a smile and her head twist curiously at the fledgling before her.

“You are still very young,” The older female notes with an amused tone. “Why your flight feathers have just developed.” The Rito’s feathers graze Mist’s own, “They’re firm though; you have fantastic flight feathers.”

“T-thanks?” Mist gulps and fiddles with said feathers as she folds her wings back to her body. “What’s- what’s goin’ on?”

“Are you not from around here?” The silver eyes blink with clarification. “That would explain it. Don’t see Rito like you around here. That’s a unique feather pattern.”

“I’m from mountains,” Mist squeaks nervously. “J-just stopping for the night.”

“Tonight’s a good night for a traveling Rito. We’re celebrating the end of the Calamity. Where is your mother?”

“I’m alone…”

“My Love here you are!”

Mist’s golden eyes flash to the male Rito flapping down to meet the duo. Bright feathers tinted bronze gold descents. His eyes, a darker hue of gold then Mist’s own, glance at her as the male lands.

“And who are you, little bird?”

“A traveler all on her lonesome,” The female at his side answers with a peculiar look that made Mist think perhaps she should scurry off before something happened.

“Alone at the biggest party of the year?” Long opposable feathers scoop the young Rito up and Mist squawks as she’s propelled forward. “That won’t do! Come, my Love, it is time for us to meet paradise.”

“Kama! Put her down!”

“My darling Gema, it is fine. Come little one, tonight we make the stars dance!”  
…

  
Link threw another log into the fire, the red sparks blending with the stars of the sky before flickering out of existence. His blue eyes flash over to Zelda. The princess unwinds the bandages that were knotted to the girl’s ankles and wrists. Harsh red rope burns inches in diameter wound around the child’s skin as the fabric unfurls into piles onto the ground. The woman’s face contorts at the sight as she rubs a healing salve from one of Link’s visits of Kakariko onto the damaged flesh before wrapping the injury with a clean bandage.

She hadn’t woken, at least not long enough for importance. While Zelda gave her chest compression CPR, the ravenette had coughed up water in cacophonous gags and green eyes tinted an odd glassy sheen were visible more only a moment before they closed. The girl fell asleep shortly after, despite Zelda’s plead that she stay awake. Said princess did manage to drip a fairy potion down her throat during those waking moments.

“You never met her by any chance have you?” Zelda asks in a whisper, even though their guest was dead to the world and even the horses getting spooked by a traveling fox had made enough ruckus to scare off the majority of critters.

The hero’s head shakes regretfully. People not centralized at the villages were few and far between, ones with children more so, and Link had socialized with every child in the settlements of Hyrule. This girl, unfortunately, had never been one of them.

“I see. Well, surely someone is looking for her, right?”

Link just nodded and allowed Zelda to return to her fussing. Children weren’t just found almost dead in rivers with weights sinking them beneath the water. No one, in probability, was looking for her, at least not alive.

Zelda knew that reality in her rational, but her heart wouldn’t acknowledge it. Who would do such a thing to a little girl? She had checked the child’s vitals as best she could. Nothing could be heard with Hylian ears sloshing around in her lungs and her pulse pumped steadily against Zelda’s fingers. The child should be alright, but Zelda wanted her examined thoroughly. However, night has fallen and, even though monsters have waned, waiting ‘til morning made the probability of getting to Kakariko unscathed increase exponentially.

The princess’ fingers freeze as she finishes off wrapping the last bandage as the girl’s face furrows and her eyes blink open lazily. Eyes reminiscent of actinolite green cat’s eye, an odd glassy, foggy spring grass green, meet Zelda’s and the princess smiles.

“Hey… You’re okay. We’ll fix you up alright? You’ll be okay little one. I promise.”

The stranger blinks in response, her lungs still heavy with breath. Air stutters out of her mouth, but words stay stuck in her throat as she coughs. Lips tremble as she tries again, but words are sandpaper in her mouth. Her dollesque eyes meet hers apologetically, glimmering with guilt.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to speak. You can go back to sleep,” Zelda reassures at the girl’s droopy eyelids. “Go to sleep, little one.” The princess grabs one of the blankets from her travel bag and drapes it over her. “Dream of happiness.”  
…

Mist grasps the metal circle with a talon to inspect the item without stiff feathers interfering. It shines in the torchlight and the small gemstones lining the circumference reflect back starlight.

“It was a gift for my previous birthday. A gift from Kama,” Gema explains as the ring is slipped back onto one of her talons. The blue Rito’s mercury eyes catch sight of a pair of females, sisters from the same brood if the matching feather patterns accounted for anything. “Jezma, Mariell!”

The two Rito pause and they flashed each other confused looks as they approached the sky blue Rito. The pink one starts hesitantly.

“You’re up and about?”

“Of course, Jezma. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a celebration!” Gema chirps and Mist fiddles with the flaps of her travel bag, pretending to look for an elusive item in its depths.

“Gema,” The purple sister started. “You lost your clutch just a few weeks ago.”

Mist’s gold eyes flash up to the Rito sitting beside her as the blue creature sighs through her pale tinted beak.

“It can’t be helped. There were only two, and both didn’t make it. Things- things like this happen, no matter how unfortunate.”

“What did the doctors say?” Mariell asks with a ruffle of her radiant feathers.

“There’s a lack of nutrients in the shell that prevents proper development. It’s not dangerous to me, but any eggs are at a higher risk,” Gema explains. “It’s saddening, but Kama has accepted it and we agreed to figure it out our own way… Girls, this is a guest. Her name’s Mist, a traveler hailing from the mountains.”

Mist feels the conversation shift as the two sisters turn their attention to the stranger amongst the flock. Mist parts her beak to gain fresh air nervously and her tongue smacks against the hard shell as she bows her head in greeting.

“Why is a fledgling like you traveling by yourself?” Jezma asks suspiciously with a hiss in her beak that has the speckled Rito feathers ruffling in a nervous twitch.

“J-just wandering… I’m from the Gerudo Highlands. I just wanted to see what your village looked like. The lights were really pretty…” Mist trails off meekly.

“The Highlands? That place is barren except for the monsters. You came all the way here by yourself? What’s a Rito family doing there anyway?” Jezma continues.

“Uncle found my egg in an area by the desert. Once I hatched he brought me to the Highlands… he got too old. Didn't make it through the winter. Demanded that I leave the mountains…”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jezma said softly. Her suspicion overridden by sympathy. “Well, I’m sure the Chief could make some sort of arrangement-"

“It’s okay,” Mist reassures. “I’m just visiting.”

Gema looks at her out of the corner of her eye and pushes her plate of fish closer to the young fledgling. “Eat,” she insists.

“Gema, my love, are you going to join me? Doesn’t the music make you want to dance?” Kama’s cheerful voice breaks the tension. “You as well Pajarito.”

Mist’s eyes furrowed in confusion at the odd tongue and her claws twitch nervously as the wing not wrapped around his mate extends towards her.

“I- I’m not a dancer,” The speckled Rito insists as she hunches inward with insecure shoulders. “Besides, I can’t leave my bag…” Mist excuses only to have Kama nudge it off her wings.

“It will be fine Pajarito. You are a Rito, music runs through our veins! Come, I’ll show you how it’s done,” Kama encloses his long feathers around the fledgling’s wings and pulls her out into the field.

The bronze avian swirls his mate in a circle as Gema starts to sway to the sound of birdsong and instruments. Mist can hear an accordion and spies the colorful blue Rito playing it. Strings are plucked at with talons and create vibrations that causes fire to twist in tempo as a baseline merges with the melody.

_Not a dancer,_ Mist repeated silently to herself like the crash and ebb of waves. Her legs weren’t the nimble variant of the brightly colored Rito who took after show birds, paradise birds like the Rito Gema resembled. but rather the stockier variant that resulted from mountain life and designed after birds of prey. Mist supposed that perhaps she couldn’t entirely blame her genetics on her insecurity. Kama, another Rito who takes after a predator, twirls his mate around easily. His feathers slice through air just as they would in flight as the two dance to the beat. An embarrassing squawk escapes the fledgling’s beak as Gema playfully pulls her into their small circle.

“I don’t dance!” Mist rushes out as she is clumsily twirled by the colorful Rito who grabbed her.

“All Rito dance Pajarito,” Kama insists once more. He takes the young creature’s other wing and stands next to his wife. The bronze Rito sways the wing to one side as a note rings out. “Like a heartbeat, one, two, three-”

The trio starts moving slowly, _adagio_ , and slightly off tempo. The music seems to match them as it slows as Kama and Gema guide the younger Rito into a waltz pattern across the outdoor dance floor. Mist’s golden eyes nervously watch her feet as they shuffle across the ground. The uneasy movements fade with fluidity as the tempo settles into the child’s bones. Mist doesn’t even notice when the guiding wings leave her or that she’s twirling alone to the _crescendo_ with increasing vigor. The beat ends on a shattering _forte_ and shocks the young Rito back into reality and out of her isolated bubble.

The molten gold irises blink in and out of existence as the Rito regains her bearings. A slight flush worms its way up her face at the muted clapping created by the feathers of her two companions.

“See Pajarito? All Rito dance,” Kama’s fluid voice rings in her ears.


	2. Corda Saucia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The legendary duo faces a challenge with their new charge

(Untrusting Hearts)

**_“To forgive someone who hurt you is easy, but to trust them again is next to impossible. “_ **

**_Anurag Prakash Ray_ **

It starts with a flair of the nostrils and the accompanying twitch of a nose. With the motion, a surge of smells floods her delirious consciousness. The sweet smell of baked apple, the texture of the soft flesh as a child’s teeth puncture the leathery outer skin inkling the mind, and the slight whiff of butter. The crackle of dancing fire bursts as the sparks whip through the air and the soft rustle of morning ritual prod the glassy green eyes to blink open.

A spare glance allows Zelda to catch the moment that the patient wakes fully. The lids are heavy and already dropping to resume sleep, gemstone irises fogged with the remnants of dreams. The princess gingerly takes the apple roasting near the embers, melted creamy froth sliding down the edges at the movement, and cools it with a fanning hand. Doll eyes widen slightly at the sight of food before her, the muted red and golden yellow catching her attention, and liquid starts to pool in her mouth at the sight, a phantom sweetness bursting forward. The movement causes Zelda’s lips to quirk in a smile and she motions the apple closer.

“Go on,” The blond priestess urges.

Black hair falls along the small body as the child sits up and timid hands cradle the offered food. Pudgy fingers run across the wrinkled skin and graze the melted butter oozing down the sides. Facial features scrunch distastefully as the tainted fingers draw away to flick the intrusive butter off the digits. The reaction from the otherwise stoic girl prompts a stifled giggle that Zelda is quick to cover up when wary eyes automatically fly towards her.

“You seem to be in okay form,” Zelda states to fill the silence as a first bite is taken. “But I’d like for you to be properly cared for at Kakariko. Are you okay to ride?”

The ravenette stares at her with puzzled, furrowed brows as if Zelda spoke in a foreign tongue. However, no comment is made as she prefers to take another chunk out of her breakfast. Link flows towards them with his confident saunter, Hyrule bass and a pouch full of vegetation slung around his waist. He gives a casual salute to the princess with a goofy smile and moves to the fire, the fish skewered onto twigs to roast.

“That was quick,” Zelda states suspiciously. “How’d you get that many so fast?”

The silent knight’s smile widens as a glowing blue orb is tossed carelessly into the nearby river. It explodes violently and Zelda automatically covers her ears as the bomb detonates with the sound of thunder. Unamused green eyes level Link with a stare. The man takes no notice as he skewers another fish onto a pole.

“That is a gross abuse of ancient technology,” Zelda states flatly with lips pursed.

Link shrugs and redirects his attention to the child clutching the fruit in her hands tightly. Young eyes regard him warily and muscles are pulled taut as limbs are moved closer to occupy less space. Minimum surface area allowed less room for injury from this man and his thunder spheres.  The cautious movement results in a glare from the matriarch as she carelessly threw the chickaloo nutshell at the head of her companion. Link ducks with practiced ease.

“Don’t scare her,” Zelda hisses and crosses her arms. “And, at the very least, don’t explode those things so casually.”

“My apologies Your Highness,” The champion mutters with a witty lift.

The noise causes the child to start. Sound hadn’t come from the man, perhaps a mercenary, the night before. She couldn’t be sure of their ranks, the convoluted titles fled and resettled with new owners habitually. Common men were nobles and heroes overnight and nobility fell from grace into obscurity with the phasing moon.  Once upon a time, not so long ago, perhaps she could have been considered an aristocrat, or, at the least, one of the upper crust.

The knicker of a horse twists her attention to the two behemoths grazing in the pasture. The white stallion watches her, dark eyes fixed on the child as it works on processing the grass in its mouth.

“That’s my horse, Regalia. Isn’t he a beau?” Zelda asks as she stands to guide the regal stallion over. A hand lovingly strokes the creature’s neck. “He’ll be helping us to the village today. Can you ride?”

Green eyes flash to the horse somewhat fearfully and settle back on the woman before her, a fog of fear clouding her eyes. Her heart started to hammer against her chest, simulating the sound of hooves against a trail darkened by night and she could hear the harsh neighs of the laboring beast beneath her. Breath struggled through her airways against the fumed cloth gagging her mouth, limbs already dragging with abnormal weight.

“Little one?”

The call knocks her back into the present. Reality filters back as phantasmal images recede into their dark crevice. Her attention returns to her savior, whose hand still rested on the sinewy neck of the white horse.

“There’s no need to be scared,” The blond princess assures. “He’s very gentle-” A snort from Link causes the woman to pause for a moment before she continues. “He’s an absolute _gem,_ ” Zelda stresses defiantly, voice clipped and final, at her knight’s humored smirk. Her tone softens when Link concedes with two raised hands. “If you have never ridden a horse before it won’t be a problem. I’ll hold onto you the whole time, alright?”

Comforting words fall flat against wary ears. Small fingers grip at the worn cloth of her sleeves, the rippling muscles of the beast causing her throat to clench in discomfort. The core of her forgotten breakfast drops to the ground as Zelda gently pries the fingers off the fruit and leads her towards the horse. She presses the tense palm to the horse’s snout and uses her own hand to rub the animal’s cheek, keeping it docile.

“See?” Zelda smiles. “Nothing to be scared of.”

The child swallows, not trustful of the words, and feels the muscles beneath her hand twitch before the stallion throws his head back violently. The youngster startles and jumps back, forcibly removing Zelda’s slack grip. Small fingers are stuck under her arms as green eyes regard the animal warily, glazed over with cautious discomfort.

“You act like that and he will never trust you,” Link states as he twists a speared fish so that the other half could roast. “Horses are born skittish. Prey animals,” The man adds as an afterthought before returning his attention to the fire.

“He once told me that soothing your mount is the only way for it to know that you care. Since it only understands parts of our language,” Zelda adds as she strokes the neck of the horse.

The white creature knickers against her palm, the soft fur of its nose nuzzling the skin. Zelda lets out a ticklish laugh and grasps the purple harness, feeling the smoothness of the dyed leather, a thumb grazing the gold plate running along the cheek piece. She takes small steps, Regalia following her lead with soft presses of his hooves against the grass, toward the girl. Gem-esque, green eyes quiver in their sockets and the child steps back as the horse lumbers forward.

“Come now,” Zelda requests. “Trial and error!” The princess chirps and clears her throat with fake gusto at the awkward silence that follows. “I’ll be here to keep him still and Link will keep you safe should something happen; a completely controlled environment for our little experiment.”

Said knight grunts his confirmation. He heaves his body off the ground from the rocky river bed. His sword chafes his container. The noise makes the child wince, the corner of one eye flinching together at the sound reminiscent of the screech of metal wheels of vendor carts on the mountain paths. At times, when traveling to different towns, she would hear one in passing as it rolled steadily against a rock lining as room for two caravans were made. It always succeeded in making her skin become gooseflesh, hairs rising as metal shafts tore along the rock like two clashing blades with a cacophonous scream.

The child’s skin still crawled at the sight of the horse and Link’s presence did nothing to ease the phantom insects crawling along her arms and back. Her lip is pulled between small baby teeth as the girl worries the pink flesh. Zelda pauses before her, both hands firmly clutching the bridle and attached reins. A pale blond mane ruffles as Regalia shakes his large head. Small shoulders flinch when Link rests a hand on her shoulder. The man squats to meet eye level, blue eyes catching hers as he gathers her attention,

“Deep breath,” The knight orders and brings a hand to his chest. He takes in air, chest rising and halting at the climax for a few moments before relaxing. Shaggy blond hair shifts as Link nods his approval when the duo’s guest mimics his action.

A small mouth purses, her cupid bow pushing against her lower lip as she gathered her courage. Her fingers lock against each other, entwining and nails digging into palms as an anchor.  A rush of air exhaled from the round mouth and soft rustles waft across the grass as she shuffles forward.

Zelda smiles softly to herself when a determined look puffs out the child’s cheeks as her eyes seem to glitter with a surge of confidence. It fades as she makes her way closer to the princess and her mount, but she raises a hand bravely to touch the animal's snout. Zelda keeps a firm grip of Regalia’s bridle, keeping his large head still while the small hand strokes the horse’s nose.

“See,” Zelda smiles as she squats to the girl’s level. “He’s a sweetie. Think you can get on?”

The shaky nod she receives causes the princess’ lips to pull into a smile. The blond claps her hands together in contained excitement, Regalia’s reins falling with the motion. The ravenette restrains her nervous flinch when the freed animal swings its head toward the grass at its hooves. Link eases the vicious snake raking through her stomach when he grasps the abandoned reins to still the creature as Zelda grips the saddle with a hand. The priestess heaves her body onto the horse, one leg sliding over the creature’s back. Her slim body shifts as the woman settled, a hand twisting the reins around her palm and brushing through the horse’s mane as she loving gives it a pat on its muscled neck. Her green eyes meet the analogous ones of the child, the only difference being a slight tint in color.

“Do you trust me?” Zelda asks with a small smile as she reaches a hand down. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

The princess sighs when her outreached hand is left empty, only a summer breeze grazing the skin of her offered palm. She withdraws, fingers curling inward in as she starts to reach for the slack of the leather reins when she feels the graze of skin. Zelda’s eyes glance down as small fingers wrap around her retreating hand, gripping tightly as if Zelda would pull away if she didn’t grasp on with a vice grip. A smile causes the princess’ eyes to pinch in the corners as she lowers her hand to prevent the child strain. She looks toward Link.

“Help her up please,” Zelda requests as she steadies Regalia as the horse shifts beneath her.

Link gives a nod and lowers his torso, ready to pick the girl up to settle her into the saddle. He purposely ignores the way she stiffens at his touch, hands pulling her into the air from under her arms. Zelda’s own arm settle along the child’s waist as she is gently placed onto the leather saddle.  The princess tightens her hold around the girl, right hand grasping the reins as she feels the dark-haired child grip rigidly to her royal tunic. Link graciously takes the rein so Zelda can soothe the girl who had begun to tremble in her grip.

“You’re alright see?” Zelda reassures when gemlike eyes peel open as Link soothes Regalia into a motionless stance. “I’m very proud of you.”

The princess turns her gaze towards Link as he turns the horse’s reins over to the other blond so he’s able to clean up their camp site. The fried fish meant for lunch later that day for when they made a pit stop at the Dueling Peaks Stable is stored away into Epona’s saddlebag. Zelda turns to make sure that her own saddlebags packed the night before were clasped shut while her knight secured the bedroll onto his mare. The man only had one bedroll which had kept remarkable shape mostly due to the fact that he preferred to either fast travel with the Shekiah plate or settle into a clove of grass, the latter being his most recent decisions as he escorted the freed princess.

Zelda feels her lips twitch as the grip on her shirt tightens when Regalia shifts his neck beneath them. She lowers her head, lips aligned with the child’s ear.

“It’s okay. I’ll hold onto you the entire time. Trust me.”

Zelda isn’t entitled to a response.

Steady breaths flow from the girl’s, matching time with the animal beneath her as her lids fought against gravity. The arm wound around her waist tightens as her body droops forward and pulls the small girl closer to the princess’ chest. A drowsy head rests against the woman’s chest, eyes combating sleep as the morning sun glimmers off the blue of the river. Rhythmic clops of hooves against the wood of the bridge pull her eyes down again. The body serving as a pillow shakes beneath her with a giggle and tired green eyes meet Zelda’s.

“Look at you now,” Zelda smiles. “You were petrified of Regalia earlier.”

The child hmms in response and shifts, eyes latching onto the roof of the stable that peeked into view. A wind rustles contrasting stands together, Zelda’s blond strands mixing with ebony locks as the girl before her resettles against Zelda’s torso, eyes half open to view the passing scenery. The animal below her speeds up as it starts to gallop when Zelda spurs its sides. Small hands grip tightly to the woman as they race forward after Link and his brown mare shrinking as they gain distance. The blurring forest catches her gaze, her eyes furrowing when a glimpse of iridescent blue disappears behind the brush. A herd of wild horses graze in the distance and the child eyes widen at a blue roan roaming near the water.

“You like the blue ones?” Zelda asks, attempting to start a conversation.

The girl clinging to her hmms in response as the two horses are pulled to a halt before the Dueling Peaks stable. She groans in subconscious protest as a man’s hands wrap around her torso to unmount her from the horse. Her legs shake beneath her, a sudden pain that must’ve festered silently during the trek towards the stable, and she bends at the knees to stabilize. A man comes out to water the two horses, Link refers to him as Tasseren, and waits for Zelda to dismount with an odd look on his face. Reins in hand the man whispers into the man’s ear, causing the knight to sputter and cough with a ferocious shaking of his head in denial.

“Wonder what that was about?” Zelda muses as she reaches out and grasps the girl’s hand in her own. “Come now. We’ll eat, stretch our legs, then be on our way again.”

Unstable legs stumble after Zelda as her hand is released as Zelda moves to grip her bag off the ground. Link had already settled his packs across his body like another set of armor, bulges of fabric mushroomed off the knight as he made his way over to the cooking pot. The fabric bags slid off his body to his sides as he sits on the bench situated next to the pot. The small child hobbles after the blond woman, legs bowing inward with her aching back and trembling limbs.

One of the sons of the stable master jogs up to the strange blond woman accompanying Master Link, a hand holding up his hat. A hand grips her shirt lightly as he tugs to grab her attention. An identical twin calls from where he fed Epona a sugar cube.

“Hey! She needs help!”

An uncomfortable heat raises to ruddy cheeks, flaring a rosy hue across the flesh of the face and the sinew of the neck. Black hair falls around the face to shield her embarrassment, body stiffening up as the child tries to straighten out her quivering legs.

Zelda backtracks, the two twin boys volunteering to take her bags. She smiles kindly at them, a soft curve shaping her mouth, as she gently drops her baggage onto the two determined stablehands. Her blond curtain swivels as she turns. The princess bends at the knees.

“Would you like some help?”

Narrowed green eyes meet the woman’s own with slight disdain when their owner notices the bemused tone weaved through the words. Stubbornly bullheaded, the child pushes a leg forward and stumbles like the newborn foal, tripping into the expecting arms. The two limbs tighten around her, lifting her weight as Zelda stands. Small arms latch automatically around the princess’ neck as gravity pulls her body down, Zelda’s own supporting her lower back.

“You’ll get used to it,” The priestess promises as she settles down onto the bench, one hand reaching out for the lunch that Link offers.

…

Wind chimes. That’s the first thing the girl notices as the two horses slowly meander along the worn dirt pathway. The music of the wind whistles through her ear, and wooden pipes sing their tune. Music notes please the ear after the sound of horses and breathing, a steady heart resonating in the rhythmic song. A murmur of humans begin to filter through her muted melody. The buzz of talking, the rustle of midday business. Villagers greet Link with waves and shouts, a woman declaring that they had a new line of outfits prepared in the shop.

Zelda passes their guest off to Link before pushing herself off her horse. Zelda grasps the child’s hand as she stabilizes herself. Two men, armed with weapons, stand guard outside a large building.

“We’re here to see Lady Impa,” Link informs Dorian and the two guards look at eachother.

“The girl should stay outside,” Dorian states with a faked cough. “Child mischief and all that…”

“She’s not a threat to anyone,” Zelda states coolly. Her hand grips the child’s tighter, drawing her protectively closer to her body so that her legs shielded her from view.

“Now, now young lady we aren’t threatening her. Just protocol,” Cado soothes. “Hey Dorian, aren’t your kids running around somewhere?”

Link struts past the two guards, ignoring the glare that Zelda sent his way. The door shuts softly behind the man. The two men outside the building continue to murmur amongst themselves on what to do with the child shuffling away from the princess’ skirts.

“E-excuse me,” A young woman’s head pops out of the door with a stutter on her lips. “Grandma says you can let the two in.”

“Thank you,” Zelda huffs. The princess grabs the child’s hand, dragging her forward as she ignores the stumbling child behind her. “Finally, some common sense.”

The interior is warm, lit only by lamps. A golden hue flickers along the wall and the girl’s green eyes fixate on the old woman shriveled on a seat cushion, Link kneeling before her. Her guardian starts with a hitched breath before running towards the old lady, embracing her tightly. Small hands grip the sleeves of her torn shirt as she shrinks into a shadow.

“Impa!”

“It’s been a long time, Princess,” Impa’s gravelly voice sounds in the girl’s ears.

Small ears note the title. Actual royalty or an affectionate nickname? If the former, royalty of what? The civilizations are scattered, held together by a thread of the past order with diluted bloodlines, a touch of hope inducing religion, and fervent trade relations. A relative of a lord, perhaps, held for some semblance of ransom amongst territorial nobles? Or something greater the authority would never privy her too. Thoughts are pulled back toward the foreground, yanked back from the dark areas of her mind when she feels eyes on her person. Green eyes look up, confirm the attention of the four others in the room, and pushes back.

Impa analyzes. Critical, old eyes notice the bandaged wrists and the curling figure retreating into a shadow. The child’s green eyes refuse eye contact, focusing instead of the religious tapestry behind the woman. Her stomach twists at the Calamity’s depiction, a hand wrapping around her other and pushing a thumb against the skin of the top of the hand.

“Aren’t you a skittish creature,” Impa notes. “So who injured you in such a way that wounds still bleed?”

The girl backs farther into a corner, fingers wrapping around her damaged wrists. Her lips purse mumly, dark hair cascading to hide her eyes under the childish pretense that if she can’t see Impa, the elder couldn’t see her. Eye contact is uncomfortable, made her shake with discomfort at being watched critically, made her feel like the hunted unaware of the wolf residing beside her amongst the flock.

Impra looks away, fixates back on the blond woman still in a tattered dress and unkempt hair, “So what’s her name?”

“Name?” Link echoes and clashes eyes with the princess.

“You two buffoons drag the child all the way here and don’t even bother to ask her name?” Impa scolds the two legends, both slightly red-faced with shame. “So, girl, what is your name?” The elder grunts when skittish eyes flicked her way before dropping away. “Alright, we’ll think you up one. Zelda?”

“Me?” The priestess admonishes. “I had trouble naming my teddy bears. How do I name a person?”

“Whatever sounds right?” Link clarifies, unconfidently.

The princess furrows her brow, uncertain. Plenty flood her thoughts. One thrown away due to commonality, cliche and overused. Another tossed as she translates the meaning, to crude for the delicate creature trembling before her. A yellowed paper, withered from time, that her father stowed away that she caught sight of as a child. A list of names for a potential sibling that would never be, a hazy word defining through her memory.

“Let’s call you Azaria,” Zelda suggest as she squats before the child. “Is that alright?”

The named child makes no protest, simply grips her wrists and back away from a potential hug.

Impa smiles to herself. Gift from gods. Where did the princess find that name?


	3. Volitantem Cordia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to Mist of the Rito, she tries to figure out the motive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mist's dialogue is too adult-like for her age and I've tried to fix it, but I might've missed something. It more accurate in later chapters. Also, the Spirit Light idea is inspired by the star ladder in Wolves of the Beyond.

(Flutter of the Heart)

**_“We are afraid to care too much, for fear that the other person does not care at all,”_ **

**_Eleanor Roosevelt_ **

A heart stutters against the plumed chest of the young Rito, thumping rhythmically against Mist’s ribcage like a trapped songbird in a wire cage. Gasping breaths leak through her ajar beak, exertion pushing the valves of her lungs as she inhales fresh oxygen. Music notes still thrum through her veins, tunes still tapping out against the rock terrain.

Her gaze trails across the star trails, glittering specks of white similar to the marking of Rito wings trail the sky. Her golden orbs dim slightly when color doesn’t streak the sky. The image in her mind, greens and reds stretching down towards the mountain tops like ethereal mirages stretching the tips of their wings to the snow as they fly across the dark sky.

“What are you looking for?”

Feathers ruffle at the noise and Mist’s eyes slide to the corners of her sockets. Gema’s obsidian face feathers fill her vision, silhouetted by a warm yellow from the torch glow. Silver eyes regard the fledgling as the speckled Rito looks skyward once more.

“You don’t have them here,” Mist answers, feathers curling around the strap of her pack.

“Have what?” The paradise Rito prods and wraps a blue wing around the child. Her blue beak points skyward.

“The Spirit Lights… at least that was what Uncle called it,” Mist explained. “Colorful lights that reach down to the earth from the sky.”

“The auroras?” Gema questions and points a feather to the Hebra Mountains. “You sometimes see the lights up in the Hebra mountains. Spirit Lights hm? That’s old folklore… How did it go?”

“The Spirit Lights are the spirits of departed chicks trying to fly back to the ground toward the life they never managed to live,” Mist fills in and sighs. “I- I wish it was true. Rito are normally born with siblings, right? But my egg was by itself. Uncle used to tell me that story when I asked why my egg was alone, tell me my siblings would be up there watching over me.”

“I could take you. Hebra is no place for a lost child, but if you want to see them…”

“It’s ok. I’m sure I’ll see them again. I have a feeling I have a while before I find it,” Mist admits as she subtly slides the wing wrapped around her body off.

“Planning on leaving so soon?”

The young Rito nods, and turns back to the adult beside her. She ignores the silent plea as she stands, large talons engraving the ground beneath her feet. Freckled feathers ruffle with the movement and Mist stretches, wings flaring.

“I’m going back down to the stables and rent a bed.”

“Do you want one of us to fly down with you? Even with the Calamity slain, monsters still roam the area,” Gema mentions as she stands, taller form dwarfing the small fledging beside her.

Mist clamps her beak tighter, tongue proding the shell. A huff of air clouds around her as the heated gas leaves her nostril to condense in the night’s air. Her golden eyes set, determined, as the young Rito edges her body toward the winding path down the pillar of rock.

“I am not a chick. It's not like I can be the chicks you lost."

The words are sharp, Mist knows that. Feels it, from the way the chest stutters and the beak has to open to relieve pressure. Its low as well, a blow to her churning stomach as it doubles in on itself and the young child breaks eye contact. Cowardly, she echoes in her mind, _morendo._ She dares a glance as Gema establishes herself once more, back straight and wings smoothed, not a feather ruffled out of place.

Her talons clack against the rock as she walks away. Feet hobbling along the way in the distinctive way that Rito do, not purposefully meant for long distance travel. A wind pushes the feathers of her face out, creeping chilly tendrils along her hidden skin. The winds sweeping up from around the vertical settlement hiss in the night, as though even nature disapproves.

“Pajarito! Where do you go little one?” Kama asks loudly as he approaches. He coughs awkwardly when his boisterous calls go unanswered.

A shift in tone as nails clack against the wooden platform, _rinfotzando,_ as the male Rito shuffles forward along the platforms winding around the rock formation. She ignores the new addition interrupting her solitude and focuses on the metronome of her own walk. Kama walks beside her, silent despite his curiosity, and folds his bronzed wings behind him casually. His shoulders sway fluidly, like the summer leaves plucked from the branches of trees that were spasmodically placed at the landings leading up to the village. His canter ticks side to side with the rhythm of the footsteps.

“Do you need something?” Mist asks as she stops before a small platform, allowing side by side conversation along the narrow walkway.

“Curiosity,” The eagleian Rito answers as he leans casually against the rock formation.

“What’s the phrase,” The fledgling ponders. “Curiosity got the cat?”

“A good thing for us with wings, right Pajarito?” Kama jests jovially with a flourish of his broad wings. “So where do you go?”

“To find a bed,” Mist responds snarkily. “I already told your wife, I not going to be the dead chick.” The feathers wrapping around the bands of the travel pack tighten. “I may be a fledgling, but don’t confuse age with being big. I’m not a child.”

“Of course not Pajarito. Forgive my wife for her… hovering. I hope you don’t let her scare you off,” Kama apologizes.

Mist sighs, shifts the pack weighing heavily on her shoulders, and looks away toward the scenery behind her. Her ears picked up on the heavy release of breath, the scratch of talons trailing wood as the trail around into reverse. A warm glow encircles the male as he retreats back into the darkness of the night, the effect of the lanterns. The freckled fledgling watches the Rito blend into the warm murk of the night. She waits for a moment, howling winds brushing the feathers of her face into varying directions, for the silhouette to fade, before continuing on her way.

Perhaps it had been the constant winds habitually corroding the pillar, or her thoughts having been hidden away into the recess of her mind, but the sound of approaching figures muted to her. The first register had been the flash of colors, a flourish of pastel rainbow hues as a brood barrels through with vigor. The five juvenile Rito causes her feet to stumble, the weight of her pack pulling her downward. Wooden paneling falls from beneath her as the small landing fails to support her flailing.

Cacophonous screeches fill the air, the brood wailing in panic and flapping as they flurry about. Two flap their wings, a harsh _staccato_ of wind and feathers as two of the young Rito go in search of their mother, voices blending in their plea. The remaining three nosedive off the platform.

“Fly! We’ll lift your pack,” The purple one goes as her sisters grip at the traveling bag attached to the younger Rito.

Talons grip at the straps binding the young fledgling’s wings. The lack of the weight shocks her momentarily, suddenly feeling vertigo and the harsh wind pushes through her feathers to the skin of her face. She flaps uselessly at the sudden shift in mass, the bite of her descent nipping harder at the stubs of her feathers. The pack had been a hindering comfort for months now, an annoyance pushing her into the dirt, but a constant presence. There be no need to soar when your necessities kept you grounded.

Her legs kick at the open air, attempting to catch a solid surface, futile. Gray speckled wings flap and slice fruitlessly, air slipping through the space between feathers.

“Fly!” Another sister cries as her two sisters help support the heavy bag.

“I can’t,” Mist responds as she twists, searching for a ledge, protruding landing, anything to catch herself on.

“What do you mean you can’t fly?!” The remaining trio screech in harmony, fluid and tuned even in the flurry.

There’s a sharp snap. _Duramente_ _fortissimo_. Wind breaking under feathers as the bronze primaries swarth the darkened vision of the young child. Steelesque talons latch to the scapulars of the Rito, mindful of fragile joints as the rescuer uses his broad wings to slow the descent. The muscles contract as the wings flap to sustain the weight.

Mist’s flails instinctually, talons flaring oddly as the ground inches closer. There’s a flourish of noise as villagers crowd to view the spectacle. Claws unclutch from her shoulder joints, the feathers pressed down with the impression and Kama balances down onto the ground. He shuffles, wings rustling as they limply rest at his sides. His beak twitches, keratin shells opening and tasting the gorged air. Heated condensation plumes as he sighs and kneels, a feathered arm winds around the child’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Mist swallow the lumps lodged in her trachea, her own flustered feathers splay across her jugular as the muscles contract. Blood thuds inside her head, pounding against her consciousness like the wooden mallet of the kettledrum. Vertigo grasps her vision, careening sideways and muddying the peripheral dark and cloudy. Feet, disproportionate to the Rito’s body, tangle over each other, causing Mist to lurch forward. Mist rids her head of the fog saturating her senses, gold eyes blinking slowly. The fledgling glances over her shoulder, luminous irises neon against her dark face.

“Thank you… That would’ve hurt,” Mist jests quietly and rolls her shoulders.

“Nothing to jest about Pajarito.”

The fledgling flinches in at the tone. Her talons rake across the rock at her feet and a wind whistles through her feathers.

“Come now Kama,” Gema urges and places a long feather on her husband’s coiled back muscles. “Let’s get this little bird here a fairy tonic.” The female Rito passes the child’s heavy travel pack over to her husband. She gently wraps her dexterous feathers around the fledgling’s wing, the soft down characteristic of Rito chicks embracing the curve of her muscle.

The crowds parts for the trio, Mist’s golden irises diverting from the prodding stares. Her gaze is pulled from the ground when her break bumps against the feathers of Gema’s waist, eyes blinking widely in confusion before glancing at her surroundings.

“Chief Kaneli,” Both adults greet with a respectful bow of their heads. If they notice the tilting of the fledgling’s head, it goes ignored.

Mist’s eyes trail over the Rito’s impressive face feathers with passive interest. Her head bows clumsily, heat rising with her delayed reaction. The sagely Rito blinks slowly, and smacks new air into his beak.

“Salutations fledgling. Oh ho, you are young,” The owlish Rito chuckles deeply. “Ah to be young. You be careful now and learn to fly,” The Rito jests. “You’ll find it beneficial. Good night you three. See you in the morn’.”

Mist watches the chief leave, the elder’s waddle deliberate and careful. She shifts, turning back to the female still gripping her wing in a gentle cradle.

“Gema…” The speckled chick kicks at a pebble, a steady _staccato,_ across the wood panels. A silence bridges between them for a moment, courage pooling at the vocal cords. “I’m- I’m sorry… What I said was,” Mist pauses for another heartbeat. “It was… really mean… Goddesses, if Uncle was here I would’ve been plucked of a few feathers. I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright Little One,” Gema insists. A feather traces the curve of the child’s cheek soothingly. “I know the injured when I see one.” The feather playfully traces the edge of the beak as Gema smiles. “We can hurt together Little One.”

Golden eyes furrow slightly at the words, mind stumbling over the suggestion. Perhaps a slight sting on her shoulder throbbed with her pulse, but pain relatively ignored her body. The speckled Rito ignores the thoughts starting to format as her drowsy body is prepped for slumber. A warm cloth, moistened by spring water, dabs at her face and cleans the dirt away from the white isolating the dark malar stripes. Her eyes closed as the cloth presses closer as it swipes over her cheeks.

A rustle sounds in the silence, Kama tying up a hammock for the child that night. The strings are pulled taut, warping as the Rito warrior presses a wing to the hammock to test its sturdiness.

“My love, the bed’s done.”

Wings curl under the child’s own, lifting her off the ground and to her breast as she makes last minute shifts of the pillow. A beak twitches into a smile when Mist yawns, eyes blearily winking away the sleep.

“Sleep tonight,” Gema cooes. Harmonic, traits of songbird.

Mist nods, nestles as a blanket is tucked around her body. Heartbeats lulling her to sleep.

 

  1. __Morendo- Dying away__
  2. _Rinfotzando- sudden accent_
  3. _Staccato- sharp, spaced_
  4. _Duramente_ \- _harshly_
  5. _Fortissimo- very loud_



 

 


	4. Mutantur Cordibus Vestris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Tales Told by Food

****(Changing Hearts)

**_“Trust is the first step to love.” -_** **Munshi Premchand**  

 

Azaria gingerly bites the apple that Zelda forces into her empty palms. The sweetness bursts in her mouth, the juice dribbling and sticky against her chin. Small teeth lodge into the yellow flesh, apple piece giving way to her tongue. The child startles when a soft cloth brushes against the corner of her mouth, absorbing the juice flowing from the crease between her heart mouth.

Zelda laughs quietly to herself at the expression she receives. Small, pointed ears twitch at the harmonic sound, notes lingering and intertwining with the song of the wind chimes swaying outside Impa’s house. Children teeth grind the soft pulp, muscles following its trail down the throat. Her gemstone eyes trail the head of Zelda’s white mount as it stretches upward toward the arms of one of the apple tree. A red jewel is plucked from the fingers, blond mane swaying as the head drops suddenly. Zelda turns to the child, legs unfurling from their curled up position, and a hand reaches out to brush a strand of black hair away. The hand flinches back when the girl’s head swirls away, small teeth bared slightly between pulled back lips. The small Cupid bow purses back together and her eyes slide away.

“It’s alright Azaria,” The princess reassured. The blond sits on her hands, removing the threat. “Beautiful day?”

The dark-haired child doesn’t respond past a noncommitted shrug, eyes adverting to the sides as she feels the green gaze upon her, body twisting to the side away from the woman invading her space.

“Link and I have small errands to run. Impa says that you can entertain yourself amongst the town, just don’t mess with the farmers’ crops. Unless... would you like to come with us?”

Zelda’s lips tip slightly into a rueful smile when the child focuses her attention onto the horse, fixated on the way the creature sways as it grazes amongst the grass. The priestess’ chest falls with a muted sigh as she stands, fixing the sash that connects a simple Gerudo scimitar to her waist, as Link approaches with pack laden with materials newly acquired from the shops. His blue eyes clash with his princess’ and nod a greeting.

“Already leaving?” Zelda’s voice pitches at the notion as hands nervously fiddle with the handle of her small blade. “You will be alright? We’ll be back before dusk, but-”

Azaria’s black hair flows with her nods, rolling over her petite shoulders as her green eyes remained focused on the form of the skeletal apple, reduced to only to the core. Her body perks at the small clatter, eyes twisting toward the sound as a small wooden bowl is placed beside her.

“I- I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer, but these rice balls will tide you over for a midday meal. We’ve left some baked apples in this cloth if you get peckish, alright?” The woman’s face purses with anxiety, her hand lashes out to grip her knight’s sleeve as she directs him a few paces away. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. What if something happens?”

Link raises one brow, unamused and weary of the continuous insecurities. His own blue orbs flash to the child who ran small fingers along the rim of the wooden bowl and leveled the blond before him with a look. Zelda huffs indignantly and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Don’t give me that look. What if- what if she leaves?”

Link breathes deeply, eyes closing in thought and patience as his head shakes solemnly.  A darkness swirls in his eyes as the blink open, mouth set into a firm line as he lifts his chin.

“No, I won’t just let her leave. She’s a little girl, and there are still bokoblins and maublins, all sorts of nastiness roaming around. I-”

“It’s not your choice Zelda.”

The woman silences at the words, mouth quivering and brow furrowed. Her lips part to parry.

“Her feelings matter as well.” The knight places a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezes his reassurance. His head nods towards the village exit.

When they return, the bowl still holds two full rice balls. However the third had been nibbled through, the top hump grazed down in a line and only one of the apples glowed in the late day sun. When the princess casts her glance around, Azaria meets Zelda’s eyes from her position on Impa’s porch before bowing her head slightly in greeting.

…

Zelda watches the stew boil as she unclogs another milk bottle. A tenor gurgle sounds as it is added to the pot and a wooden spoon stirs the liquid to prevent burning. Her nostrils flare and she pokes a piece of radish buoying along the creamy surface. Lips stretch in satisfaction and eager hands ladle the soup into two bowls.

Link watches her as she eagerly stands and climbs to the platform where the timid child sits with her head pillowed by her arms. He smiles to himself when Zelda starts to ramble nervously, relaying an admission that she herself didn’t qualify as a chef when the girl looks at her questionably. Azaria grasps the bowl at Zelda’s flushed monologue and gives a toothy smile to ease the princess’ furrowed brow and biting lip.

The woman mellows into soft face as she sits into one of the wooden chairs, her own spoon falling into her dish. Her lips move with unheard words and quirk into a smile when Azaria’s face scrunches in humor as her shoulders shake in quiet mirth.

The knight joins them, rolling his eyes at Zelda’s biased story, as the trio enjoys the radish stew.

…

Gemstone eyes blink blearily, evasive of the morning sun that manages to filter through the inn. Azaria yawns and burrows into the soft bedding as her body accumulates energy, muscles tensing in a morning stretch before rising into a sitting position. With a heavy blink to clear her vision, raven-hairedired child twists to look for the two adults, having grown accustomed to the woman waking her with a smile and a rambling about an old story or a piece of vegetation and its accompanying properties.  

Her brow knits deeply when the two beds in their walled off section are empty. Link’s blankets are hastily pulled into a semblance of neatness and Zelda’s spare blanket folded neatly at the foot of her bed.  Small feet pad against the wooden floor as Azaria glances out from behind the privacy barriers, green eyes searching.

The grayed Shika notices her wandering eyes from her counter.

“They left a while ago, Impa asked them to go to Hateno for her. They said they’d be back around late day.”

Azaria nods, paddles across the wooden paneling in bare feet. She searches the room, around the duo’s beds for a tied cloth or a small dish. Her lips dip into a frown when she discovers the room barren.

The apple trees prove gigantuan, the bark slick and her hands clumsy. She huffs in aggravation as she lands on the ground. A cupid bow twists as the stomach grumbles in discontent.

Zelda and Link return with a high sun causing a sheen of perspiration across the brow. Link pulls his collar down, tempted to shoot an ice arrow to relieve the rising heat. Their two horses labor through the pathways, sides expanding with deep breaths and tails flicker to swat at the flies buzzing their flanks.

“Oy, Sir Link! That girl of yours, you better go get her. No one can get her to eat or drink anything, it’s been hours. The lady’s granddaughter is with her by the statue.”

Zelda blinks at the clerk, the woman’s name vague in her mind, but flickers her gaze to her knight before unmounting from her horse. A gentle pat steadies the neck muscles when a villager offers to take the duo’s horses. Soft thuds follow hurrying feet as two legends whirl around the bend.

Link relieves Paya from her sentinel, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder at her stuttered apologies as she anxiously admits any offered food was vehemently refused. The young woman’s hands wave with her mumbled words as the knight subtly pushes her back towards Impa’s porch, the old woman’s voice calling both forward.

“Did you forget to leave her food?” The elder asks from her cushion as Paya scurries off to fetch her grandmother a cup of tea. Impa doesn’t wait for a response and lifts a bony finger and motions at the two females. “Stubborn as bull that one is,” Impa notes as she is handed her tea. “Skittish as a horse as well. Help me up boy, I want to see this girl.”

Zelda sighs as she brushes a piece of dark hair from the child’s face and tucks it behind the shell of the ear. Gemstone eyes blink open from their lidded drowsiness and the girl’s head shakes when one of the store clerks offer her a platter of roasted mushrooms. The princess’ brows knit anxiously.

“Come on Azaria…”

“You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink,” Impa states as she grips Link’s arm to keep balance. “It is better to trust the eyes rather than your ears, girl.”

“Going a summer day such as today, and refusing to drink,” Zelda scolds as she unties her water flask from her waist. “This is very daft of you Azaria. Drink this.”

The girl shrinks between her shoulders at the priestess’ scolding and brings the canteen to her mouth. The water is unpleasantly warm, uncomfortable as it slides down her throat even as it soothes the acidic burn. Her eyes slide over to Link when he pulls a few roasted chickaloo nuts out from a cloth bag and places them gently into the girl’s hand.

“You can’t do this again. We shouldn’t have forgotten, but you can’t just refuse nutrients. Goddess forid you faint or-” Zelda quiets as Link places a hand on her shoulder. “Link, let’s get her inside with a heat elixir. You, little miss, better drink all of it too. I don’t care how bitter it tastes. Go with Link,” The princess orders as she stands, pulling the child up by the armpits to her feet.

Impa’s lips perk into a knowing smile when the blond woman heaves a sigh and pushes her locks into a crest with twitchy fingers. Her knobby knuckles tightens around her walking cane as her back hunches with her body weight.

“You seem irked, Princess.”

Impa snickers when Zelda casts her a muted glare, face scrunched slightly in distaste at her companion’s amusement at her adversity. The aged woman releases a final chuckle and bumps the princess in the ankle with her wooden staff.

“Prey animal, Princess,” Impa reminds. “ Prey mistrust before they trust. She barely nibbled the first meal you gave her, and you forced the water out of her lungs. Don’t be disheartened Princess Zelda.”

“Lady Impa-” Zelda starts as her hand is given a soft pat as the elder turns around to hobble back into her house.

…

Link wakes to a harsh rustle of blankets. His body immediately flips toward the noise, blue eyes locking on the small figure gently kissing the flooring with bare feet as she stiffens at her noise, gaze fixating on Zelda anxiously. When the woman continues to sleep as if dead the child rolls of the balls of her feet into a standing position. Azaria pauses by his lady’s bed, eyes glancing away in guilt, before shuffling out of their enclosed area. Link waits in his bed and waits to hear the muted thud of the wooden door before pushing out of bed himself.

He is caught as she passes the Goddess’ statue, the girl turning with a vicious scowl and what appeared to Link as glowing green eyes. His own flicker to the firelight, noticing its reflecting glow in the water, and shrugs off his thoughts. He approaches slowly and motions with his empty hands at the girl. Silently, he settles by the dying embers of the fire, arms crossed at his chest. Azaria eyes him carefully, fingers rubbing the wrapping of the rope burns encircling her two wrists.

“Can’t sleep?”

The child nods, mouth pursed together, fingers picking at the knots at her wrists. Her black brow furrows when the man just gives a knowledgeable nod and walks off, settling by the cooking pot outside the foods store. Azaria settles by the dying embers of the fire, taking entertainment in their orange illumination and their slight heat as a night wind chills her sweat slicked torso, chest inhaling calming breaths. Small digits find their way back to the protective bindings, peeling at the knotted cloth with bored fingers.

Her green eyes blink with a haze of confusion as a cup is forced under her nose. The warmth fans across her face and her hands move to gingerly grasp the mug, fingers enclosing the cup of warm milk. Her nostrils flare for a moment, taking in the old scent, before her lips part. A comfortable sensation as it settles in the stomach. A heavy breath releases into the air and a thankful smile crosses her face before a yawn splits the lips apart. Green irises hide behind droopy eyelashes as the cup is slowly drained of the sweet milk. Azaria drowsy body complies when she is clumsily drawn to her feet and led back to the Shuteye Inn.

Zelda watches, eyes crusted with sleep delirium, as the child drops into the bed. Azaria rolls lazily as Link pulls the blanket out from beneath her to drape it over her form. They wait for the ribs to settle in steady breathing.

“Everything alright?”

Link nods as the dirty mug is dropped onto the bedside table. He slumps back into his bed, taken by sleep.

 


	5. Cor Volantes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mist attempts to fly

(Flying Hearts)

**_“Do not fear going forward slowly; fear only to stand still.” - Chinese Proverb_ **

 

A gentle caress wakes the fledgling from her slumber; a soft shake rouses a groan as the body flips to avoid the prodding, pulling the blanket closer against her as a morning wind sweeps through the open area of the aviary.

“Come now, little bird. You’ve got to wake up now,” Gema pries the blanket from stubborn feathers. “Kama is teaching you to fly today.”

“ _ Gema _ ,” The fledgling groans with a squawk. Her fluffed feathers settle as she’s lifted from her hammock. “I don’t want to fly.”

“You are a Rito, Pajarito,” Kama calls from outside their structure. His tail feathers sway with a strong breeze. 

Broad wings flare as Kama spreads them, the fabric of his short loosely slips along the shoulder joint. His talons tap anxiously against the wooden platform as his mate dotes on the fledgling.

“It’s in the blood,” Mist parrots as her eyes squint as a cloth is rubbed over her face. Her tongue peeks out from between the shells of her beak, “Gema, I can do it myself!”

The female hums in acknowledgment, dropping the used washcloth into the shallow wooden basin steaming with water by her side. Her talon ring glints against the morning sun as she passes through the patch of sunlight that crept along the wooden panels of the floor. A bowl of nuts and berries is passed to the fledgling as she shrugs into a light outfit, gifted the night prior and received with an apprehensive facial expression. The Rito busies herself with a sharp blade as she cuts the fillets of staminoka bass into bite-sized pieces, sliding the sections of fish onto a platter with her knife. The bright blue of her feathers flares as Gema kneels, offering a piece speared on a wooden stick to the fledgling. 

Mist shifts the fabric where it clutches at the waist, twisting the folds straight and experimentally pivoting around her joints. Her eyes twinkle, marveled by the flexibility maintained despite the comfortable snugness and flaps her wings to their maximum. Golden eyes focus on the offered meat and the beak parts immediately to accept the offered food. 

“That outfit is good for flying,” Kama insists as he settles on the floor of the aviary. The male accepts his mate’s thorough routine she had established over the two weeks. “It prevents unnecessary drag by clinging to the body,” The Rito explains as his wife offers more fish to the fledgling.

“What’s drag? You mean that the wind is going to pull me around?” Mist asks, eyes widening in concern as she shakes away when Gema holds the fifth chunk before her. “What if it drags me away?”

Gema giggles slightly, covering her beak with the blue of her feathers. “No Dear. Drag is the wind catching something and slowing its movement, you’ll cover less distance if you have too much drag.”

“And go slower?” Mist’s beak bobs in response to Kama’s nod. “I asked Uncle one time and he said flying was hard. He never flew, you know that? Said he had a bad wing, and his one was bent in a weird way; so I guess that’s why. Is that true, is flying hard?”

The golden Rito perks at the question and spreads a wide wing to beckon the fledgling to his side. Broad feathers wrap around the other Rito’s shoulders as the spare wing grasps a clutch of exemplary leaves.

“I’m not an expert on the science of it. When I was a fledgling my father had me jump off into an updraft- No I was fine!” Kama is quick to reassure when Mist lets out a fearful squawk. “It’s in the veins Pajarito. Escucha pequeña,” The golden Rito commands as his language slips. 

He unfolds one of Mist’s wings, the speckled feathers stubbed at the tips symbolizes her youth as they fluff out into varying directions. Kama settles the array for a moment, brushing the stray feathers back into their proper position before gesturing to the section of wings that converge at the tips.

“These are your primary feathers. They provide the thrust that with get you in the air. Your secondary feathers,” Kama moves a guiding feather lower along the wing. “These provide lift and your tail will help you steer.” 

One of the leaves is brought before the fledgling’s face. Her head tilts in confusion, eyes muddled as Kama pointedly waves the broad piece of foliage before her. Mist gingerly grasps the flat leaf, tracing the veins across the green plane.

“Blow harshly across the top.” 

Gold eyes flicker towards the paradise Rito, feathers wrapped around the stem of the leaf harshly in uncertainty. Mist glances doubtfully down at her leaf before returning a suspicious look towards the female. Gema settles the platter she still held onto a table and squats, gently gripping the edges of the flat greenery in a firm hold as Mist drops her feathers away. The fledgling casts another doubtful look Kama’s way before doing as instructed. The white chest plumage expands with crisp morning before gratingly blasting a disturbance across the leaf’s top side. Most’s golden irises sparkle in wonder as the leaf lifts up momentarily before dropping into its static position.

“Woah… Why does it do that Gema? You have to know right?”

Gema’s cheeks twitch in a smile as she restrains her amused chuckle, knowing it would send the Rito into a monologue. The fledgling abhorred being treated as though a chick. Her tolerance as one of the few fledgling Rito currently residing in the village’s central pillar waned thin when multiple grown adults attempted to converse using dumbed down vocabulary. Mist’s soliloquy regarding her perception bulged with mumbled complaints regarding her weeks of solitary travel and her insistence that her flight feathers matured almost four months ago. Therefore, despite the relative newness of her wings, she shouldn’t be treated as though she was still molting her chick down.

Gema and Kama indulged her tirades, understanding the muted heat of frustration that glowed in her irises when their occasional visitor would mistakenly treat the Rito as though she was one of the other younger fledglings that chirped around the village despite the independent isolation she’d faced traveling through Hyrule on foot. Both Rito had found patches where feathers had been lost to branches or rushed escapes from monsters, occasional red scratches visible beneath the regrowth of plumage. Gema’s eyes dim at the reminder.

“Gema?” Mist prods and pokes the female’s sternum. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. You want to know why the leaf lifted right?” The brilliant Rito changes subjects as she refocuses on the leaf still clutched between her feathers. “See blowing across it creates a pressure difference. The air pushes down on the leaf’s topless because it moving fast; this allows the air below it to push the leaf up. Your wings work like this by providing a pressure difference and lifting you up. And don’t worry about making your own thrust, we’ll start in an area with an updraft to get you in the air. You just have to maintain it, okay?”

Mist nods, although one of her talons jitters nervously against the floor, a soft  _ staccato  _ on the wood. She stuffs a fistful of the nuts into her beak as she barrels out of the duo’s flat.

“You know we could have just told her to jump and flap, Love,” Kama muses with laced sarcasm.

Gema’s silver eyes roll and narrow in a muted glare at the goofy face her husband sends when she meets his eyes. Naturally, Kama only maintained a serious attitude when flying was involved, regressing into playful banter and amusing voices once common conversation reigned once more. The black Rito nudges Kama with a scolding wing as they follow the fledgling out the door. She finds Mist off near a platform, the fledgling’s one wing pressed against the column in reassurance as Tulin held a conversation with the one Rito younger than him in his age group.

“Some are okay with jumping blindly off cliffs and others prefer knowledge of water below,” Gema responds as she soothes imaginary wrinkles from her clothing.

“Oh? Is that sarcasm my love? Your darling isn’t ruffling your feathers, right? That would be a shame,” Kama continues with a withheld snicker.

“It would be woeful if a certain Rito ended up isolated to another hammock.”

The golden Rito offers an exaggerated bow, one wing bent across his chest as he offers his mate passage.

…

Mist shuffles, talons raking through the thin layer of snow to scratch against the rock below. The constant updraft of the Flight Range ruffles her feathers, a cold draft creeping through her down. She takes a cleansing breath, frigid air seeping through her beak to feel her lungs. Large chest muscles fall with her exhalation, a puff of condensation clouding the space before her. Gold eyes slide over to Kama as he stretches his wings.

“Vámonos Pajarito. You will be fine!” The bronze Rito insists and launches into the updraft. His body twists, large wings splayed flat to catch the current.

“I’ll do it with you,” Gema offers and edges them closer to the edge. A wing gently prods the fledgling, “Come now. It’ll be fine.”

Mist swallows a bulge of fear and shuffles her wings as Gema flares her own blue feathers. The older female lunges, body lifting as her wings caught the rising air. Mist’s speckled wings give an experimental flap as she hovers at the end, heart pounding  _ con fuoco _ in her chest as she falls over the edge. Her wings instinctively splay, distinct boomerang shape camouflaged amongst the gray and white of the Flight Range. 

A breath stutters out and she feels the muscles of her wings tingle with foreign exertion. The feathers flutter with the rising current, a cold stabilizer against the _traumerisch_ sensation of being airborne. The fledgling tilts into the strong zephyr, _pianissimo_ in her movement. Kama soars above, _maestoso._ His bronze feathers acquire a golden hue with the morning sun, long flight feathers creating a strong silhouette as he passes through the sun’s image. In juxtaposition, Gema’s rounded wings flap _mosso,_ a beautiful lustrous blue that became vibrant in the scattered light. 

_ Sforzando _ . A harsh thrashing lacerates the air, drawing the two adults attention as the current weakens. Mist flails, wings haphazardly beating the air around her in panic, legs falling beneath her instinctively to grasp for the ground. A loud screech nullifies the erratic batter of the fledgling's wings as Mist starts dropping from the sky.

Kama tucks his wings into his torso, air forcing the feathers of his face to flatten flush against his skill. Air whistles around his body as he dives toward the falling fledgling. His wings spread suddenly, surging him upward as the air current strengthens, leaving him level to gently nudge the flailing feathers into a conform spread.

“Panicking will not help Pajarito. You need a good flap to maintain your lift and keep your feathers together. Vale?” 

Mist nods nervously, grateful when Kama and Gema graciously provide her with an upward drift. Her chest heaves as she takes in a breath and flaps her trembling wings.

…

The fledgling can’t find her determination to protest when Gema grips her under her wings into her own, her muscles stinging with exertion. Her beak nuzzles into the soft black feathers and makes a grunt of protest when the Rito attempts to coerce the young Rito onto her back.

“You don’t want to walk home do you Pajarito? We won’t eat until dusk if that’s the case!” Kama comments with a chuckle. 

His head tilts to the side when he doesn’t receive a response, craning his neck forward to glimpse the fledgling. A huff of amusement puffs from his nostrils, condensing in the mountain air when he glimpses the sleeping child.

“Your constant flying ramble bored her,” Gema jabs flatly as her mate takes the sash around her waist and uses it to secure the fledgling to her back.

“You wound me today, Love,” Kama drawls, bringing a wing to his breastbone in mock offense as he lifts off the ground. He hovers by his wife, ensuring that the chick on her back stays in place.

“That’s what you get for keeping me up rambling about teaching her to fly.”

 

  1. __Con Fuoco-_ with fire_
  2. _Traumerisch_ \- dreamy
  3. _Pianissimo_ \- very soft
  4. _Maestoso-_ majestic
  5. __Mosso-_ quicker_
  6. _Sforzando_ \- sudden emphasis




	6. Cor Malum Facerem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The timid foal bucks

(Hurting Heart)

**_“Even a hare will bite when it’s cornered” Chinese Proverb_ **

The muggy humidity clings to her skin, adhesive in nature as the child buries her head into the princess’ back. It trickles into her airways, cotton sliding into her lungs as her chest heaves. The muscle beneath her forehead rumbles when Azaria leaks a miserable whine.

“Unfortunately the humidity isn’t going to lessen Azaria,” Zelda informs solemnly as she throws a glance over her shoulder, blonde hair shifting out from beneath the girl’s forehead.

The child mumbles a complaint under heated breath as she lifts her leaden body up. Her eyes purse together at the incessant vibration of mosquitos swarming around the warm bodies of the Hylians and their mounts. The steady momentum pulls a yawn from the rosebud mouth, the child’s body ebbing up and down in tempo with the white steed beneath her.

Her green eyes blink slowly in drowsiness. A steadily rising sun peaks along the ridges of the mountains enclosing the Lanayru region as the trio trotted towards the Zora Domain. The wetlands, muggy and humid, were off the main trail but cut the distance. The occasional wild ox would paw at the ground when they passed, large horns flailing with the harsh shakes of the head. Azaria could feel the blonde shift and the heat of the concerned gaze when she gripped tightly to the princess’ riding tunic.

“Carissime?” Zelda calls softly, the word rolling off her tongue and drawing the child’s head up. “You’re okay.”

Azaria’s green eyes lay half-lidded as she meets the woman’s eyes, a small smile reassuring. The eyes flare open when a camouflaged Lizalfo lunges at Epona, causing her to rear with a panicked whiney. She grips tightly when Zelda pulls the reins of Regalia’s bridle, the horse retreating backward as Link unsheathes his sword. She hears the wind break as the knight swings, knocking cacophonously against the metal armor.

Her jaw snaps against itself, bone clacking painfully as she is bucked off the animal. Air escapes in a harsh exhale and she twists to avoid the pounding hind legs from breaking her chest. A strangled sound escapes her throat when a spear embeds itself through her shirt, grazing her side and pushing her back.

“Azaria!”

Zelda draws the traveler's sword from her waist and hastily slashes at the creature. The weapon is brittle compared to Link’s glowing blade, the knight surrounded by three others that came at the sound of a bugle. It held just enough reach to puncture the creature’s flesh, make it hiss at her and take a leap back with its muscular hind legs. It had been dulled with use, an item that Link had picked up after raiding an enemy camp and threw into the stash in his home. It compared little to the jagged spear that jabbed at her horse’s fetlock. A hand winds the purple leather tightly, the reins binding tightly around the flesh and causing a rise of the skin as Zelda jerks her horse to the side.

Azaria winces at the sound of metal on metal as it screeches against the monster’s armor. Her green eyes flare as a spear lacerates her arm, tearing through the binds wrapping her arms and feels the stinging warmth of a cut as pain statics across her muscle. Hands fists and arms sway as the child’s body sways. Temperature rising and head pounding, muscles tense with a gaining stinge as she plants her feet into the marsh and feels it depress under her weight. Eyes set, a faint glow residing under the pupil, the sound of a barbaric hiss audible in the ear dulls to the steady thrum. The clog of air lessens in the nose and a deep breath pulls her chest up.

Green eyes bulge as two solid arms wrap around her waist and pull. Her stomach flips with the force, the air she gathered expelling in a harsh puff. Link forces the girl to the ground, sword swinging forward as his body shelters the girl’s form. The Lizalfo deteriorates into a dark mess, mass melting into a flow of sparking magic and rancid odor. Azaria gags, retches at the smell, at the wave of tingles that pluck her hairs into goosebumps. When she crawls out from beneath the knight her chest heaves and her throat jumps when the monster muscles dissolve into a pile of molten flesh.

Zelda watches from the sideline as the child topples backward to the ground. She nervously grips the reins of her white horse as Azaria clutches her lurching throat. Small legs kick out when Link attempts an approach, catching the knight’s ankles in the process. The small nudges held little kick to them, but the man backs up anyway as the child’s heaving shoulders settle into softer movements.

“Carrissime? Are you alright?”

The girl curls in on herself, black hair falling over her body as green orbs glow behind the darkness. She tightens her hands around her arms and watches as the princess approaches slowly from the front. A sharp breath through the nose forces another cough and her body unfolds, allowing Zelda to wrap a hesitant arm around her shoulder and another around her waist to bring her up to her bosom and hug her tightly.

“Help me up, Link?”

The knight helps lift Zelda onto her horse. He takes a lead from the saddle bag, connecting the two horses with the thin rope. Regalia follows the legendary mare, body rhythmic yet tense as the child leaning against his mistress takes another shuddering breath and body jerking gulp.

“Azaria?” Zelda prods gently. She tries to moves the child to see her face but is met with a whine of resistance. “Do you need anything?”

The head resting against her collar shakes her head no.

…

“Link! My friend!”

The voice draws the child’s attention. She unburrows her face from the woman’s collar. Green eyes blinked at the red creature before her, taking in the creature’s aquatic form. She assumed it to be a Zora. She had heard stories of them before, people of the water hailing from the east. Sort of reclusive, Azaria remembered that from her stuffy nose tutor as he sniffled in the cold of winter despite his heavy furs and the warm hearth glowing in the study that painted the boredom across her face with a warm hue. Unable to travel far from the water and needed the humidity to breathe properly, savage teeth lined the mouth and they had the fins of fish. The lesson had been milder than others, it proved difficult to fault a Zora with their civilized society and respectable architecture.

_“They are still beasts, young miss. You must remember that. They are fangs, and claws, and primal instincts. It matters not that they have managed to evolve past the fish they come from…”_

The girl shakes the man’s voice out of her head. It had always been nasally even when the lean man soiled every inch of the handkerchief that filled his breast pocket. She had never wandered in Lanayru. They had never had business there. She had, however, been to Lurelin Village where you could at times see vibrant colors amongst the waters, circling the areas around fishing boats. Azaria looks at the Zora before her. He towered over Link, the tallest amongst them, and managed to even pass Regalia in height. His red scales shined and she wondered if it felt like the scales of a fish. He didn’t exactly resemble a fish, at least Azaria didn’t think so. Her tutor had made her brow pucker, and he’d been wrong about the Rito being savage. Azaria hoped him wrong about the Zora as well. She didn’t want to add another thing to fear to the ever growing list.

“And who are you, young one?”

The child blinks, notices the creature much too close to her face, and promptly squeaks. Zelda’s shirt is fisted between small fingers as Azaria retreats into the woman’s figure. The princess soothingly rubs at the girl’s arm as the rapid heartbeat settles once more.

Sidon’s face twists in guilt, “A thousand apologies young one!”

“It’s alright, isn’t it Azaria? You’re okay,” Zelda whispers against her temple. “I’m not quite certain you remember me. You were quite small the last time I saw you, but I’m Zelda. The-”

“Princess Zelda!” A faint blush settles at his outburst. “My apologies! Indeed, I was very young and don’t remember much from those days besides my sister. Prince Sidon.”

The Zora gives a charming bow, reminiscent of the faded images from her storybooks. Azaria supposed that is he had a cape than he’d definitely resemble the princes from her books, bar the fins and tail.

“Link informed me that you’re here to look at Ruta, yes? And to talk to my father?” When Link nods in confirmation sharp teeth pull back into a smile. “Marvelous! Perhaps water is the way to go? As long as you two don’t mind getting wet, Your Highness.”

The Zora dives into the river to clarify, water splashing into the air with rainbow droplets just missing the child’s face. Azaria feels her anchor move behind her, the princess unmounting from her horse in a fluid sweep as her arm uncurls from the child’s waist. Those regal eyes look at her expectantly from the ground. Azaria gulps slowly, hands twisting the flaxen strands of Regalia’s mane tightly around stubby fingers. She is stiff as Zelda pulls her off the horse and settles with a stumble on the ground.

The tears across her arms tingle as she watches the water swirl below. Fingers dig into the deteriorating bandaging, the shredded cloth coarse against her skin as it slides across the expanse of her arm.

It’s slightly greener here, that’s what she notices initially. The trees and dark mountains deepen the hue until it twirls with an inky surface. Her throat tightens, uncomfortably raw and itchy with a dryness that she wants to cough away, but air catches in the back of her mouth and stutters out as quick as it comes in.

Zelda’s furrow brow flickers between the child and the water, the gemstone eyes were locked on. Her face pales slightly as bound arms and leaden feet flash through her mind. The princess turns to Sidon, waiting patiently in the water with wide, confused eyes.

“Perhaps we could take a more scenic route?” Zelda suggests as she moves back to her horse, taking hold of the reins and starting a slow walk with it.

She notices how Azaria scrambles to fall into step beside her, muscles tense as she places Zelda between the river and herself.

…

The tall Zora graciously offers to take upon himself Zelda’s bags, the sturdy leather saddle bag swaying over his shoulder as he gallantly struts towards the large bridge leading into the luminous structure that was the Zora capital. He babbled relentlessly, jovial and loud in a charismatic way, a sharp contrast to his soft-spoken sister. The one-sided conversation he held with Link amused her, her green eyes drawn to the interaction occasionally. Her hands found themselves drifting toward the child trailing behind her, still treading the farthest from the slopping river as manageable without slowing the adults around her down.

The sound of the horses against the bridge made of ore soothe the pounding in Azaria’s ear slightly. A rhythm to focus on, that soft clatter of horseshoes across the surface. It’s calculated and muted, a caress across the skin as the vibrations reach her as she follows meekly behind the brigand, unsure as to why she trailed after them. Her ears pulsated with rushing blood, just behind her throbbing heart as she kept her eyes pinned to the pull of her feet beneath her.

The sound roars as two Zoar guards take the horses, guiding them up the stairs and into a closure on the far side of the capital where grass grew thick along the ground and a small enclosure had been constructed as the decline of monsters allowed tourism to return to the domain. The domain ebbed calmly, the few tourists who took to the roads the moment the Calamity perished strolling across the sleek floor talking amiably with the residents. Zora clumped together by a large monument that drew Azaria’s eyes, by the single storefront and before the hotel.

A few Zora children chase in a game of tag, breaking around the adults with squeaky laughter. One pushes the other playfully and the two stumble into view of the prince where the third gasps and pulls them into a more presentable stance.

“Hello, Prince Sidon!” The chorus together and smile when their greeting is returned.

One of them, scales blue and green with a white patch across her front notices her picking restlessly at her arm bindings. She bounds forward, head crest with the point of a dolphin at the crown forcing the Hylian back and inward.

“Hey! Want to play with us?”

Zelda perks at the offer and nudges an arm back slightly, encouraging with a nod of her head for the raven-haired child do join the group. Azaria sulks along, glancing back at the princess from the corner of the eye.

Blood surges faster when her comfort leaves, her only stability since being pulled from the river with her lungs clogged with water. The Zora children smile at her, small short teeth pearly white and glinting. Her own lips twitch at the corners, an anxious pull of the lips and flash of the teeth that earn her an odd look for the small boy with dark green scales and pointed fins.

“We’re playing Champions. You’ve got to help fight the Calamity. I’m being Daruk!” The young male beats his scaled chest with a clawed fist, his other holding a wooden toy sword clenched in the other.

“Daruk didn’t use a sword seaweed brain,” The third boasts as his head extension flops. “At least I’m actually using a bow like Revali.”

“Guys stop!” The girl whines in annoyance, the shield attached to her arm falling down due to its size. “It’s just a game.”

“Well, who’s she going to be? She can’t be Master Link, he’s a boy!” The green scaled Zora laments.

“She can’t be Princess Mipha,” The girl insists. “Old Muzu and the other elders would have a fit then our parents will get mad.”

The three Zora children quiet and assemble their thoughts. The one male, the one with dark purple scales in contrast to his green and blue counterparts, pounds a fist into his palm as he jumps with excitement.

“You can be the Calamity! We chase you and if we all catch you we win, but if you get us all by ourselves we lose!”

The other two murmur their agreements with hmms and nodding heads. Azaria pulls at her bindings, unsure, and twists at the tattered ends.

…

“It’s nice to see you well Princess,” King Dorphan states as he leans back against his throne.

“You as well. I must apologize for the misfortune that fell upon your domain while-”

“Think nothing of it, child. We all suffered from that vile beast of darkness. I am looking forward to restoring our domains to their former glory.”

Zelda smiles slightly, eyes drooped with a foggy blankness as her mind drifts to an aching body and blinding light as phantom cries explode in her brain. Her shoulders jerk before her mind registers the scream. The throne room straightens, Link and Sidon immediately moving to look out below the throne room’s flooring below.

A few shouts of help raise to the two and Link jumps over the ledge, paraglider unfurling as he descends to the floor; Sidon and Zelda following on foot down the sleek staircase. Zelda slides across the domain’s smooth flooring, feet almost kicking out beneath her when her eyes catch sight of Azaria floundering in the water. Two of the Zora children crowd around the third, the green scaled boy clutching his arm as he wails. Adult Zora bend on the edges of the wading pools, reaching for the child only to pull back the moment they graze her skin. A hiss escapes the mouth of one female as she curls her hand, fingers twitching.

“Prince Sidon, don’t touch her,” The Zora warns in a pained breath, chest heaving as the skin blisters. “She burns.”

“What?”

Link ignores the exchange as he rushes to the pool, feet trying to grip the wet flooring as he skids to a halt. A cold chill runs along his stomach, clothes sticking to his skin as they absorb moisture and he reaches for the child. A pained gasp leaves his mouth when her hand digs into his own as he tries to grab one of her arms. The skin blisters under her touch and he recoils instinctually.

Azaria’s lungs burn and slosh. A loud gag forces a flood of water into her, only partially returning to the pool when she coughs. Her veins burn, thrumming with energy as her limbs flail about the water as they search for a grip unavailable to her. Her pupils blow wide as she feels the energy around her legs stiffen, her feet kick against a forming solid. She’s knocked onto her stomach, water pushing around her as she rises. Air floods suddenly, mouth gaping and gasping as she spits up the water rising from her stomach. Something solid and cold is beneath her, its frigid touch cooling the burning of her skin as she gags on air. The buzz in her ears dull slightly, the words of others filling the static void.

“What...that?”

“Get...er...do...Link!”

“Magic...a witch?”

A spike of energy flares, eyes expanding for a moment. The green pupils glow; a ring of light encircling the pupil as her surroundings fade into darkness.

 


	7. Inane Desiderium Cordis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip toward memory lane

 

(Nostalgic Heart)

**_“Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.” ~ Jennifer Armentrout_ **

Mist had abandoned her traveling pack. The flap of the bag laid to the side, the mouth of the item gaping open as the bindings holding it together strained due to their threadbare nature. The worn cloth leaned against the wooden side table beside her hammock. The hammock that Kama had returned back to the aviary with one afternoon tied to his back. The bedding was a single swatch of soft fabric, contrasting with the tied rope system that she had been using. A warm blanket is pulled over the hammock, lined with fur that warmed her body that had yet to grow her full plumage when the night air dropped to frigid.

The fledgling twists the cloth of her one piece, still marveling at the sturdiness of the fabric. Her own clothes from before had been heavy, meant to keep warm in the frigid snowy mountains rather than keep flight. The Rito tilts her head, staring at the reflection before her in the water basin Gema kept on a table. Her golden eyes blink and a feather runs along the shiny buttons keeping the decorative tassels to the chest.

“Perhaps we can fly in the outfit as well?”

A drawled out huff escapes the gray beak as Mist lolls her head to the side to look at Kama. Her large eyes droop without amusement as her talons clack against the wooden flooring as she moves away from the water basin.

“Leave her be Kama. We went yesterday,” Gema soothes and runs a wing over the girl’s head. “Her muscles need to recoup. Mountains are not formed in a day.” 

“That would be scary,” Mist comments as she imagines a mountain knocking Rito out of the sky or uplifting a building.

“No fear Dear,” The Rito mums as she muses for a moment and her ringed talon taps rhythmically, a habit Mist noticed happened when the female lost herself in her thoughts. “You know, I have to go down to the outside market to get a few things. Why don’t we all go?”

The gold eyes widen, Mist’s beak chattering with excitement before she readjusts. Her feathers wrap around Gema’s sash and tugs lightly. 

“I want to go! I passed a few traveling, but I don’t have rupees on me and it’s no fun if I can only look…” Mist trails off for a second, “But Uncle told me that I don’t need a lot of things. Where are you going? I didn’t see any near the village. Is it far away? What kind of market is it?”

“Hush, Pajarito. You ask but remember to listen for your answers,” Kama laughs lightly and digs through one of his drawers.

His long feathers wrap around a worn paper. It’s heavy parchment, Mist knows from the way it loudly unfurls with a harsh thump of the air and lays relatively flat on the table despite being curled and tied with a ribbon. It unfurls like the blades of a fern in the morn, a slight curl at the edges. The ink is a faded black, bleached by the sun, and the paper crinkles along the surface from getting caught in rainstorms and snow. One of Gema’s blue feathers traces a line to the east across the ravine.

“See here? Serenne Stable? That’s where the market is, but we’ll stop at one of those towers west of the Tundra. I’ll carry you, alright?” Gema’s soft voice slides through the air as she ruffled her feathers and rolls the map into position, replacing the tie and returning it to the drawer.

“You sure? That’s a long way. Uncle and I used to walk places…” The fledgling murmurs as her feet tap nervously along the wood,  _ stringendo  _ as the two adults begin to gather supplies.

“I’ll be just fine, Little Bird. You don’t weigh much right now. In a few months, however…” The beautiful Rito trails off teasingly as she prepares the sling to help carry the child.

Mist’s head twists to the side involuntarily, large eyes blinking  _ pesante _ . A few months? Mist considers the time, she vaguely can understand a time of growth. It’s not uncommon for fledglings to sprout after their feathers came in, in fact, it’s expected. The muscles mass would increase, and the light down stiffened into adult plumage. Although Mist believed her adult plumage wouldn’t settle for another winter at the least, a fledgling of that age probably would weigh a considerable difference. By that time perhaps she could properly fly, it would make her travels far simpler.

Mist’s wings ruffle lightly at the thought, imagining the view of the green fields. The desert winds would no longer kick up scorching roughage into her eyes. She could return to the mountains and visit the gravesite the Gerudo women created after the frantic fledgling slid her way down the slopes of the mountains and tumbled into the ice harvesting site days later. Maybe, Mist muses, she could even return to visit Gema and Kama with traveler stories on her tongue and souvenirs. The fledgling’s eyes droop, would they care to spend their time with her once she leaves? Or will they forget about her once she takes flight?

She blinks out of her thoughts when Gema gently tugs on her shoulder, motioning for the fledgling to settle into the sling created for her. A speckled wing reaches for her traveling bag.

“Pajarito, perhaps that should stay here? It’ll weigh us down.”

“But...” Mist starts as her feathers curl and withdraw into a fist at her side. “I need-”

“Why don’t you empty it? Then we can carry our purchases in it?” Gema suggests, attempting to deflect an argument, and moves to squat next to the fledgling. “Everything will be here when we get back. You can put in in my chest if you like?”

Mist nods and empties her bag. A stuffed sand seal falls from the darkness, threadbare and seeping its cotton slightly. Small feathers wrap around it and cradle the toy to the feathered chest. A small dagger also clatters to the floor, dulled from use, along with a leatherbound journal and a few writing quills. A small cloth bag that Mist opened to find a handful of preserved foods she forgot about is emptied before it is filled with her loose quills. A folded map is pushed into the cover of the leather journal. A rumpled set of torn clothes rolls out from around a bedroll, heavily padded with warm furs. Mist centers her belongings into a pile, twisting to open the metal chest that Gema kept by her hammock. 

The lid opens with a click, the metal giving off a heavy sheen in the morning light. There’s a slight clunk when her items clatter against the sides, settling against the miscellaneous clothing items and blankets that Gema stored in the chest. The lock sounds as the lid is closed, a heavy sound that soothes a piece of Mist’s mind as she shuffles back to her feet with her empty travel pack. She clambers onto Gema’s back, bag looped around her wings.

…

The sun is approaching noon when the trio lands onto the large tower protruding from the ground. Mist taps the flooring, marveling at the material as the two adults stretch their wings and shake out the pains in their legs. Her eyes trail her surroundings, tail feathers excitedly fluttering with a bouncing sway as her golden irises settle on the stables in the distance.

“Oh, oh look Kama. I can see it from here!” Mist squawks excitedly.

“Indeed, Pajarito, we are close. It’s all downwind from here,” The Rito answers as he checks the string of his Swallow bow. 

The wooden bow is turned in his feathers, the string pulled taut as he tests its ability. He hands it over to the fledgling when her feathers make a grabbing motion. Kama settles the young Rito by his side, wing settling around her shoulders to bring her close as he points out the key parts of the bow. 

Mist finished off her piece of Hearty Salmon, hooked beak shredding the meat easily from the wooden skewer. The wildberries she was given lay untouched beside her on a piece of unfolded cloth.

“Why don’t you eat your wildberries?” Gema prods.

The dark brow furrows in distaste as she eyes the bright fruit. They grew in the Highlands, one of the few fruits that survived the frost and the cold. Her uncle never bothered with them. They offered few calories, no fat, and took more energy to harvest than they gave. After she passed her hatchling phase, the time that required him to provide foods small enough for her beak, the aging Rito never wasted the time collecting the berries. Mist never held a strong affection for them anyways. The juice was sickeningly sweet and created a sticky mess of her face feathers.

“Aw, come on, Love. Rito like us far more enjoy our meats,” Kama winks one golden eye. He leans over to the fledgling’s ear, “And if we can manage to sneak off, I’ll get you the best rabbit you’d ever have.”

Gema rolls her eyes, although her tweaked smile betrayed her as she packed up the three’s belongings. She ruffles Mist’s head feathers, earning her a muffled murmur of discontent. 

The young Rito glances out to the world below the tower, gauging the distance to the stable. Her feathers ruffle as a scarce wind blows through, a rarity that’s seldom found outside of the heart of the Hebra Mountains. Her chest heaves with a heavy breath,  _ tenuto _ , as a thought settling into a decision.

“Kama,” Mist calls out gently. “How far is it from here? You know, with time?”

“Hmm?” The bronze Rito brings a feather to his neck as he considers the question, eyes gazing out to the stable. “I’d say another thirty minutes?”

“Think I’d make it?” The fledgling asks, eyes slightly sliding to the side to notice how the two adults would react. 

“Make- Yes!” The bronze Rito exclaims, feathers puffing up in excitement. “Yes, yes, indeed. Let’s go now! Tell you what, Pajarito. You make it there by yourself and I’ll let you pick out whatever you want.”

“Wait, really?” The fledgling asks as she hurries to her feet. Her talons cacophonously clack against the slick flooring. Her wings already flutter as she trails to the edge, Kama already in the air in front of her.

“Give me your bag, Little Bird,” Gema calls out. She messily shoves their leftovers into the small over the shoulder bag she’d brought for herself. “Kama don’t strain her.”

“No worries, Love. Come, Pajarito,” The bronze Rito hurries, providing a strong gust for the fledgling before his mate could sway Mist’s mind.

…

The ground is a hard presence. One that Mist feels impact her legs as they shudder with the force of her landing,  _ rinfotzando.  _ Her body flails forward, limbs twisting beneath her as she stumbles. Wings catch her before she crushes her beak into the dirt.

“Woah, there,” Gem softly twirls her words with a slight tune. “You did great.”

“Haha!” Kama shakes the ground with his landing, claws splayed and digging up dirt into small trenches. “Yes, Pajarito! That was marvelous! Oh, I’ve never been so proud,” The Rito exclaims as he crosses his broad wings.

Gema scolds him into a softer tone, the loud bravado drawing wide-eyed attention as shoppers stop to stare. Mist gives herself a few footsteps of distance, eyes turning curious as she takes in the market. Her mouth waters at the smell of meat and the hint of spice that flares in the air. A Hylian had set up shop with a pack mule and a roaring fire, product strewn across a table set up and handing off strings from a tree. A loud clang sounds out,  _ tenuto _ as it rang through the air as a Goron, golden like the Gerudo sands, cracks a ruby with a hammer and sets to smooth the harsh edges.

“Oi, little Rito!”

The voice is heavy and accented, baring with it the howls of sand and the blister of heat. It tings with familiarity. A bearing weight that settled on the brain like a heavy blanket during the winter season. Large eyes turn towards the sound, torso twisting to the side as her orbs settle on the Gerudo. She is tall, nearly three times the young Rito’s size. Her hair burns like the embers of flames and muscles crawl as she makes her way toward the Rito. Strong and so, so familiar. 

Mist’s feathers ruffle in surprise as her back straightens a little taller. She’s off the ground, barely six inches as she flaps to the vai.

“Sav’otta Saanvi,” Mist own words blends into an amateur version of the older vai’s. “Oh, I’ve missed you! You won’t believe the stuff I’ve seen. What are you doing here? You never told me you left the desert. What-”

“Sa’oten vehvi,” The Gerudo, Saanvi sighs as she shifts the large back she has hiked on her shoulder to the ground. “Give a vai the time to speak. I’ve always gone to large markets like these once a season. If that old vure of yours ever brought you down from the beastly mountain you would’ve known.”

The breath catches in Mist’s throat at the mention of her uncle. It settles there, a heavy stiffness that she swallows. Her beak trembles slightly before she stiffens it, tears would do no good.

The Gerudo’s eyes soften with sympathy, and her lips purse as she curses her own mouth, “Apologies, young Mist.”

“No, it’s okay… He never did like leaving the mountains. You know, he said the sun would bleach my feathers!”

“That old hermit,” Saanvi laughs. “Did he really? No wonder you barely left the shade when he had us babysit, you’d thought you’d turn as white as him.”

The two manage to share a laugh, and Mist feels her feathers heat when she’s reminded of how she almost ended up skewered when she fell off the roof into the training rooms. Her heart warms at the memories, burns a little like a biting wind, but reminds her of the desert. Saanvi brings a piece of swirling winds and the smell of desert flowers. She brings the strength of palm trees in her stance and the sound of the Gerudo on her tongue. Most importantly, Saanvi bears the stories of home.

 

    1. _Pesante_ : Heavy, empathetic
    2. __Tenuto_ : Sustained, held_
    3. _Rinfotzando_ : Sudden accent
    4. _Tenuto_ : Sustained, held




	8. Cor Autem Timet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First words are spoken

(A Heart that Fears)

 **“** **_There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou_ **

She’s sore when her eyes flare open and her fingers grip the silken sheets in a vice. Her muscles burn with each movement as she takes in the signature blue of Zora architecture. They throb as she swings her legs over the bed and they scream as she pushes herself out of the infirmary room. Her ears can barely hear the sound of the Zora nurses over the pounding of her blood in her own ears. She slides back into her room when one turns into the hallway that included her room.

Azaria brings a hand to her mouth to ease the queasiness in her stomach as it lurches with nothing inside. She fears the sounds it creates, worried about the Zoras advanced hearing and smell. Her chest stutters a silent breath in and out. She hears the curtain of a room neighboring hers get pulled to the side and allows herself the sigh of relief. Deciding the hallway a risk, her green eyes settle on the window. The dress she wears is foreign, it's of a lightweight material and shimmers blue as it swirls at her feet. The flowing top seeps over the window ledge that Azaria peeks over, sighing in relief that she could slip over the ledge. The stone of the wall is frigid against her burning skin and the floor of the Zora building freezing against her bare feet.

The area is miraculously empty as Azaria wastes a moment to look around. There is little walking space, the infirmary set on the edge of the structure that created the Domain. She could hear the bustle of the market area to her right and the shouts of the training recruits. The ladder that is bound to the railing seems her only option. Shaking hands grip the slick material, the sheen of nervous sweat causing her to tighten her hold as trembling legs descend her down. She two-thirds of the way down, heart in her throat as she hears the sound of footsteps approaching and passing. She shakily drops another bar and muffles her cry as her foot slips and catches on a lower peg, ankle twisting and loosening from the bar with a pop as her body plummets.

Her breath heaves as she steadies herself, body sprawled across the rocky ground. The pain subsides, flaring only as she returns to a sitting position and curls into a ball. Her hands tremble before her, the strain in her muscles causing them to twitch as she clenches them into fists. The memory of sparking energy coats her mouth with a bad taste and her black strands are tugged at harshly. A strained hiccup escapes her mouth in a strangled squeak and Azaria curls in on her lurching stomach. Tears flood her eyes, trailing their salt and residue down her cheeks as another hiccup silently bumbles out of her mouth. Small fingers dig into the skin around the face, slapping the sides of the head in ridicule. Her lip is pulled at by ruthless teeth that pull her mouth back into a dreaded frown. The water lapping around her, isolating her from moving forward, mocks her as it roars at her pitiful form. It crashes, ebbing closer to her body and threatening to drag her in, to drown her lungs, and roaringly laughs at her plight as she huddles herself tighter. The crystalline drops slide over her arms, dropping to the rock as the breaking water provides the sound for her cries.

…

The yawn breaks across Zelda’s face, shifting her golden locks as she rubs at her face in exhaustion. There’s a clink as a plate is placed before her. She smiles in thanks at the Zora despite the fact he had already made his way across the room. The blonde priestess slumps against her arm and exhales a sigh, her spare picking at the fish served to her. Link nudges her side, causing the ornate fork to clatter cacophonously against the silence.

“Princess Zelda, are you alright?” Dorephan asks gently from his throne, low timbre resonating through the room.

“F-fine. Yes, I’m fine…” The blonde mutters to herself with a frantic mumbling of the tongue as she pushes her hand through her golden strands.

The Zora royalty glance at each other with side eyes. King Dorephan smothers his smile with a failed pursing of his mouth as a rattled breath escapes the woman’s mouth. Sidon tries to catch Link’s eye and notices his own furrowed brow. He clears his throat loudly drawing the attention of those around him.

“May I ask who the young one is? I’ve never seen her before,” Sidon starts in an attempt to soothe the accumulating stiffness pooling from the priestess.

“It’s fair to say that none of us have met anyone like her son,” Dorephan rumbles as he moves one large arm to accentuate. “A witch! I haven’t heard rumors of one since _I_ was a guppy!”

“Witch…” Sidon murmurs, voice lagging around the word. “Aren’t witches just folklore? You only ever hear of them when the little ones misbehave. They’ll curse them to turn colors. Why my nanny warned me that I’d turn gray!”

Link guffaws at the image of a gray Sidon and his perked up lips falter when Zelda flinched upward. His eyes shift to the side, blue orbs settling on her twitching form. His head jerks back when Zelda’s clasped hands slam into the crystalline table.

“That’s not possible…” The princess claims. “Witches were hunted to extinction centuries ago when the return of Calamity Ganon first started. Even the royal family couldn’t curb the death. It was a genocide…”

“Aye, my father spoke of it. If a witch was caught using magic, or if anyone was suspected magic, they’d be burned at the stake, thrown into the rivers to see if they would sink or swim. It was a horrid time for Hyrule. Bodies would wash up on the shores of the Domain and the Rito would speak of mass hangings. Such a dark age for Hyrule…”

Zelda ignores the distant grumbles of “barbaric Hylians”. Her face goes white, color paling with her accumulating horror. Her hands raised to hide her face, the linked shame of her kin knotting in her stomach and writhing around like a venomous snake, biting down and spreading a burning shame with each pulse of her heart.

“Someone tried to kill her.”

Link downcasts his eyes at her statement, his own chest heaving with restrained anger as his hands fist around his long hair.

“Princess…” Sidon edges on and settles beside the distraught blonde.

“We found her in the river with weights tied to her limbs.”

The silence afterward permeates the air, even the councilmen of the Council of Elders taking a sudden breath and releasing it through a flare of their guilds. The heavy sound of breathing settles into the emptiness, only the occasional stutter of Zelda’s voice breaks the rhythm set.

“And then she gets pushed into a tide pool,” Sidon groans.

King Dorephan shakes his head solemnly, “It is quite unfortunate. That poor child.”

The suffocating air is splintered with the sound of rushing feet as a flustered green Zora rushed into the room with another at her side of a darker hue. The duo’s gloved hands and the protective wrappings around their torsos, a mask to prevent contamination through the gills, label them as nurse sharks, Zora nurses who care for those in the infirmary.

“Pardon us, Y-your Majesty, but-”

“The Hylian child’s missing from her room,” The darker of the two blurts out and shrinks back when Zelda lurches from her seat. The Zora’s gills flare beneath her coverings and she swallows, “We tried to follow a scent trail, but it’s old and stale.”

“Sidon, get the Bazz and the guards looking. She couldn’t have gone far, all the exits are guarded.” The king of the Zora meets the priestess’ eyes as she hastily stands. “It’ll be alright Zelda.”

He’s not graced with a reply as the woman grabs her knight by the arm, forcing him from his seat and dragging him from the throne room. The large Zora resettles into his throne as his remaining child races towards the guard’s barracks and lets his gaze focus on the statue at the heart of his domain. His large chest falls with his grief as he lets his eyes close for a moment to let the memory of his daughter wash through him.

…

She could hear them above her, barely since the rushing blood pulsating through her veins had yet to cease and the roar of the water still bombarded her ears. Yet the clash of the Zora Guard’s spear against the flooring steadily added another instrument to the cacophony. Azaria’s chest stutters as she releases another breath, letting the noise fade into a gnat buzz in the back of her mind.

A sudden splash forces her eyes open, large gemstone irises blinking as she registers the form before her. Her body surges backward as her brain notices the Zora pup before her. A cry of pain pries itself from her lips as her twisted ankle is jostled and her mouth screws into a twisted line as she waits for the pain to subside.

“Wah!” The dark green Zora from before, the one who wielded a wooden sword and now sports a waterproof bandage wrapped around the upper arm that can be seen when the water aligns, skirts backward through the water. His head pops over the crest of the wave he created, the pointed head ornament dripping rivulets of water down his face. “You know your Ma is looking for you right? You’re gonna be in trouble, she’s running around like those crabs near the glowing building.”

Azaria’s head is shaking before he even finishes his first sentence and the Zora’s brow furrows in confusion. His head tail smacks against the water as he bubbles the water around him as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“What d’ya mean no? She’s your Ma ain’t she?” The guppy grumbles when Azaria denies the statement. “Well, she acts like it. You know you’re being a brat, I wish I still had a Ma!”

Gemstone eyes raise and connect to the black ones before her. The Zora’s eyes are stone hard, an unforgiving granite that glare at her.

“Yeah well, you can’t hide here much longer. You obviously can’t swim and there’s no way out, witch.”

Azaria’s breath catches in her throat as the Zora looks up at the foundation of the Domain central hub. His fins crest through the water as he approaches cautiously, eyes barely held above the water level as he edges closer to the Hylian’s small mass of land.

“So can what are we doing? ‘Cuz we have only half an hour at most before they find you and my Pa skins my fins.”

“Lander!”

The young Zora groans, body sinking into the shallow water surrounding Azaria’s island. His granite eyes slide to the corners of his eyes, his sharp teeth flashing in his grimace as he forced his body into an upright posture, torso sluggishly straightening and flopping with a jerk into position.

The female Zora is lean and tall. Her scales shine azure in the darker water as her ray shaped head ornament flop against the side of her face akin to the way the ears of a Hylian Retriever dog does. The muted turquoise of her inner scales, those of her face and stomach, contrast the fire red hue of her eyes and mesmerizes the Hylian’s attention. She blinks back into focus when the Zora guppy, Lander, creates a loud splash as he pulls himself up onto the piece of land.

“Lander, you had us so worried!” The beautiful Zora exclaimed. “The nurse sharks never cleared you to leave your room. You shouldn’t go running off like that-”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lander mutters and catches his tongue between his teeth. “I’m fine anyway; ‘s not like it was a shock arrow. It doesn’t even hurt.”

Azaria notices how the young Zora’s eyes land on her with the statement before retreating back to the adult. He flicks the water collecting on his webbed hands to the ground and fists his hands around the belt decoration at his waist.

“Did you really have to come to find me Nefeli?” Lander grumbles as he toes the gravel at his feet.

“Well, I- I was concerned when you weren’t in your room. I didn’t mean-” Nefeli stutters out as her throat constricts, gills pulling closed under the water.

“Yeah, whatever. The Hylian’s hurt,” The green guppy states as he edges back into the water, facing away from Nefeli. “Good luck getting her up. Her ankle’s hurt and she’s scared of water of all things.”

With his final words, his body dips below the water line, dark scales camouflaging in the dark water and only the crest of his head broke the surface. Azaria’s eyes widen as he climbs the waterfall roaring beside her, body cresting through the white froth like the salmon in the fall as he cleared the obstacle and disappeared over the edge of the domain’s railing. The pointed ears twitch at the lengthy sigh and the fire eyes dull to a low smolder.

“Excuse Lander. I’m afraid my step-son is not very _fond_ of me…” Nefeli raises her head further from the water, a small, strained smile pinches across her fair features. “I’ll go get you some help.”

…

Zelda’s eyes drop a few tears that trail their tracks down her cheeks and converge into droplets at her chin before finally kneeling to gravity and plummeting to the floor in uneven circles. Yet her mouth shakily pulls into a smile as she descends the ladder and her hands curl around each other as she meets the ground, uncertain what to do with the energy throbbing through her arms. Her hands unfurl and fall to her sides, stretching for the child as she scrambles to her feet and promptly squeaks as her lame ankle is bent.

The princess recoils when the child reels back, frigid water clawing the back of her legs with languid fingers, brushing her muscle through the fabric of Azaria’s dress and seeping its cold into the skin with its slithering touch. Azaria’s heart mouth presses into a firm line, throat pulsating as her heart attempted to launch out of her mouth and ears swollen with the crash of the water and the rush of blood through her veins. Energy crawls through her flesh, pooling at her hands as her fingers curl uncertainly.

“Come now, Carissime, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Zelda soothes and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to hurt that ankle of yours-”

“Why?”

The priestess startles at the word, stares blankly at the girl as her mouth stitches back up as quickly as it unwound. Azaria’s entire jaw quivers, lips bruising themselves with the force keeping them together. The pupils in her gemstone eyes quiver, the blackness dilating with every rapid breath. Small lips unlatch, shaking as they fall and part like a gasping fish.

“Why? Why are you _faking_ ?” Azaria’s voice pitches in its crescendo. “Just _do_ it already!” The girl hiccups as tears blur the green of her eyes, the diffraction causing the colors to leak out of the iris. “Just _do_ it! Do _something_ ! I _hate_ it! I hate _this_! I hate being- I hate being sc-scared! I’m ti- tired of being scared...”

Tears spill over, running rivulets down her cheeks and dripping onto the front of her dress and darkening the fabric. Her teeth chatter as she bites down onto her lip, cheeks flushed red as the heels of her palms rise to rid the tears from her blurring eyes. Her muscles ache in fatigue, burning her arms, her legs, her chest, her eyes. The hiccuped sobs choke in her throat, a harsh cough forcing its way out. Her green eyes widen as a sudden weight falls around her, enveloping her body in an unfamiliar softness and drawing her toward a foreign warmth.

Zelda cradles the child to her bosom, her own tears trailing into the dark strands of hair as she tucks the girl’s head under her chin. She feels Azaria loosen her rigid stance and feels the hot breath expel across her collarbone as the boneless girl falls into her, face buried in her neck as wet tears drenched the collar of her shirt.

“I’m sorry Carissime. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” The princess mumbles over and over into the child’s locks. A broken echo against the roaring water and muffled cries.

 

 


	9. Simile Cordibus Vestris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot desert memories and cold mountain meetings

_(Reminiscent Hearts)_

**_“When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.” - Toni Morrison_ **

Gema notices the Gerudo woman once she finally settled her husband’s antics. Her head tilts slightly of the sight, watching her little fledgling flutter around this desert native with the energy of a sparrow. It struck her as unusual, watching this little bird she’d been guarding for weeks flit around with bursts of energy uncommon to the fledgling. The babe could hardly keep herself on the ground that she dug her talons into on any other occasion She swallows down the bitter taste filling her tongue and follows as her mate struts forward.

“Return the fledging if you’d plea-”

Kama squawks when the Gerudo woman suddenly turns, pushing Mist behind her and drawing a scimitar from her waist. It barely has the time to raise when the young fledgling grabs it with a taloned foot, wings flapping to pull the strong vai back.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mist exclaims in a rush. “He’s just making a joke!”

Mist’s speckled plumage falls with relief as the weapon is sheathed at the vai’s waist. She tries to settle a few fluffed feathers with her beak for a moment, stalling the stiffening stillness settling between the adults.

“Hrmph,” Saanvi grumbles. “Humor makes for a strong shield, but a flimsy weapon,” The vai’s eyes settle on the male Rito before her. “Yet what can you expect from a voe?”

Kama sheepish smile wavers in his confusion, his wing coming up to scratch at his neck, He clears his throat and makes an apologetic bow.

“I apologize for startling you, ma’am.”

“Hmp, the Guerdo do not startle, voe. I merely protect the vehvi,” Saanvi states with conviction and rests a hand on Mist’s shoulder. “I’ve helped raise this chick into a fledgling, and I will protect her until she can stand on her own.”

Gema’s eyes, stone hard in a way that Mist never saw before, take in the woman before her. The young Rito peeks out from behind Saanvi, eyes flickering between the two females and tightening the hold of Saanvi’s skirts. She gulps when those silver eyes land on her.

“Mist, care to introduce us to your friend?”

The fledgling straightens at the prompt and reveals herself from behind her past babysitter to regulate the zone between the adults. With a wide wing towards the tall woman the speckled fledgling begins.

“This is Saanvi of the Gerudo. She used to be of the guard when I was still a young chick, but she became a merchant when I was little. Uncle Gother thought I’d get us killed if I followed him, so he forced me on Saanvi.”

“Sa’oten Mist! No need to be crass,” Saanvi chides and her fiery hair shimmers as it follows the shake of the woman’s head. “Old Rother was a friend of the Gerudo for decades, a strong warrior, as one must be to survive the mountains. Only the hardy can survive the mountains, and it is no place for a chick. You were never a bother to us.”

“So you were her babysitter?” Kama asks hesitantly, words lulling with caution as the woman’s muscles ripple as she crossed her arms. 

“Aye,” Saanvi nods with a fond smile and runs a hand over the fledgling’s head. “And she’s a good girl too. Strong and a lionheart! A true Gerudo, even if she’s covered in feathers.  Mist has been one of us ever since her hatching in the desert and that old vure needed a babysitter.”

Mist feels her skin heat beneath her feathers and ducks away from the Gerudo’s affectionate noogie. She flickers her eyes over to Gema and furrows her brow when the female Rito looks away, feathers clenching around Mist’s traveling bag. The young fledgling brushes the black wing with her own, drawing the adult’s attention with a smile.

“Come now, Mist. We have some shopping to do,” Gema breathes out with a small smile as she grazes the fledgling’s shoulder.

“But Gema…” Mist lets out in a whisper as she’s turned away from the Guerdo woman. Her golden eyes widen as she sets her sight on Kama.

The bronze Rito feels his shoulders fall as he conceded defeat to the child’s puppy eyes. He swings a wing over his wife’s shoulders, drawing her attention away from the fledgling sneaking out from beneath her wing.

“You know, Love, why don’t we get a few gems from the Gorons and check out what the Hylians brought with them today? I’m thinking crab and some hearty beets, maybe a pumpkin or two?” Kama rambles and spins his mate towards the Goron stall with the sparkling jewels being polished.

Mist silently backtracks, ducking towards Saanvi with muscles trembling with excitement. 

“Just like old times, eh Little Vure?”

The fledgling nods.

Gema concedes to her husband’s pathetic attempt at distraction, her gaze always locked in the corner of her eye as she trails her fledgling with her gaze. Her silver eyes half-heartedly glance at the gemstones before her, rejecting the first sapphire shown to her. Mist fared fine in the heat, she didn’t need sapphires to boost her tolerance. A blue primary feather grazes the topaz deposits; topaz would do, Gema supposed. Getting shocked by electricity was no fun after all, the faded scars that Gema would see grooming Mist’s back feathers proved that fact.

“Topaz, my love? You love sapphire,” Kama inquires as rupees are exchanged and the Goron goes to polish the gemstone.

“I have plenty of sapphire necklaces. Mist would appreciate the effects,” Gema notes as she places the gemstone into her carrying bag. “Thank you, sir.”

“Eh, Rito, if you’re plannin’ on makin’ a specialty necklace, you should head over to the Gerudo. They make real good amulets and such,” The Goron suggests as he replenishes his stock and aligns the glittering stones.

“That Gerudo is an artisan?” Gema’s voice quips with curiosity, eyes returning to where Mist fluttered in a circle around the woman with wings spread wide, most likely telling some sort of story.

“Well let’s go then. This way you can stop trying to distract from the fact that Mist hasn’t been with us the whole time.”

…

“Oh, and that time one of those vai gave you a Noble Pursuit?” Saanvi lets out a belly laugh as she recalls the chick’s intoxicated movements that had her ramming into walls. “You only had a mouthful and you were stumbling down the street. Oh did I have some choice words for those troublemakers.”

“Saanvi,” Mist whines as she covers her face with her wings. 

“Oi, little vure, you gave us all a scare when we went back up to get you and the place was empty. We thought you fell to the wolves! Daft girl, we would’ve taken you into the Gerudo! I’ve told you before, you’re a Gerudo, feathers and all!” Saanvi scolds, timber voice echoing in the small area that the Gerudo set up to sell her wares. “I was worried sick for weeks. Spent days in those mountains.”

“Sorry Saanvi,” Mist murmurs and curls into the woman’s side. “He always said he wouldn’t be around forever. He said- he said that when he went he wanted me to find Home, that I couldn’t need him anymore…” Mist pauses for a moment as her heart ached in her chest. “So, that’s what I’ve been looking for.”

“Home is different for everyone, vehvi,” Saanvi explains. “And sometimes it isn’t even a piece of land!” Her brown eyes humorous with the confused look on the chicks face. “You’ll see what I mean, but I dare say you’ll find home soon. But, if you don’t,” The Gerudo wraps a muscled arm around the Rito, “I always got a spot for you in Gerudo Town.”

“What if you meet a voe?”

“Pft, I’ll settle with a voe the moment that one can prove that he can take my scimitar!” Another round of laughter starts up again easing the ache in Mist’s chest. Saanvi’s eyes soften as the fledgling grips at her breastbone, “And that wound of yours will heal in time.”

“What do you and Gema mean? I’m not hurt!” Mist squawks and her brow furrows at the look she’s given. “And don’t mind Gema and Kama. She lost a brood and she’s still sad about it, so she gets protective over me. Even though I’m not a hatchling, let alone her’s, and it’s not like I’m sticking around.”

“What nonsense are you spewing, Mist? You sound like the desperate searching for an oasis and only finding a mirage.”

“I’m happy that they’re helping me, but I still got to find Home. Besides, I’m sure they'll get tired babysitting an orphan. I’m not their fledgling,” The Rito explains matter of factly as she tears apart a scrap of cooked meat.

“Mist-”

“Hello again ma’am!” Kama calls out, interrupting Saanvi’s words. “We come asking for your services.” The topaz is revealed from beneath bronze feathers. “We heard perhaps this could be turned into an amulet, perhaps by the Gerudo.”

“You’re thinking of Isha, she’s the jeweler. Mist, take the voe to Isha, would you? She’s on the far east of the market. She’ll be happy to see you again.”

“What about Gema?” The fledgling tilts her head to the side.

“I’m sure we can make conversation, little vure,” The Gerudo gives the child a slight push towards the east.

Mist reluctantly follows Kama as he begins to make his way across the market area. Her golden eyes reflecting the sun’s light as she watches the two left behind over the shoulder.

“You need not fear me Rito vai. I’m not taking your fledgling anywhere,” Saanvi declares as she stretches her limbs. “So please stop glaring at me with such disdain.”

Gema stiffens, silver eyes swiftly clashing with the vai’s. She sighs, brows dropping and wings hanging limply at her side, “I’m sorry. I’m just being possessive and insecure-”

“No need to explain, Us Gerudo aren’t ones for long emotional talks. Mist told me you lost a child, for that I’m sorry. We all hurt the same when we lose someone, eh Rito?”

Gema studies her face, notices the way her eyes were pinched with energy. The vai’s muscles curl as Saanvi curls her fingers around her weapon, fingers clutching the scimitar tightly. Her beak parts, about to ask about who she lost, but she snaps it shut. The Rito simply nods, crossing her wings over her chest in an attempt to ease the pain throbbing there. Saanvi mirrors her actions.

“She never really was meant for the blazing sun. Hebra seems much more fitting for a young Rito, but bring her around to visit. This is quite the trip to make, even for a Gerudo, but you have wings,” Saanvi chuckles to herself. “Take care of her, alright vai? She’s- she’s precious to us all.”

Gema only nods.


End file.
